Harry Potter and the Love of a Family
by exwolf
Summary: On All Hallows Eve night 1981 the Dark Lord destroyed the wrong family. Brought up with the Love and support of a family Harry Potter grows into the man he was destined to become. Standard disclaimer applies; I don't own Harry Potter or the characters.
1. chapter 1: Prologue

A/N: Standard disclaimer applies. I don't own Harry Potter.

A slightly enhanced version of this chapter featuring a Longbottom family that doesn't die in one paragraph

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October 31st, 1981.

The half-blood Dark Lord who had taken the name Lord Voldemort had learned months ago that there was a prophecy concerning his conquest of the world. A prophecy in which there was a future champion that would have the ability to bring about his downfall. A child Born at the end of July to those who had defied him thrice. That was all he knew, had he known more his actions might have varied drastically. There were only two children who could potentially fulfill the crack pot seer's prediction. After all so few people lived to defy him even twice much less a third time. Tom Riddle had always been practical, even if he was a bit insane now, and his current plan was perfectly logical. There were two children that fit the circumstances of the unknown champion. Both children were marked for death and would perish at his hand. It was only practical after all. He had been more than willing to fracture his soul into multiple pieces; what was the death of two infants to the greatest Dark Lord to ever live and breath?

The Dark Lord had chosen to attack the Longbottom family first in an attempt to destroy one of the two who could one day lead to his defeat. Nobody save the Dark Lord would know why the Longbottom would be the first to die. He had made the decision alone in his sanctuary and had told no one. For him it was a practical decision; the Longbottom's were less defended. The Potter family by contrast had more aggressive magical defenses and an additional pair of wands ready to come to their aid. The Longbottom family on the other hand depended more on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, a department that was exceptionally easy to panic and divert. Both family's would perish tonight and it was only practical to conserve energy for the harder fight.

Frank Longbottom felt a layer of magic surround his home before he moved with the practice precision honed as auror in a war. Frank's wand flashed out sending two silver mists that blurred away with all possible haste. One patronus raced for the head of the DMLE to request back up, a second to the head of the order of the phoenix. Frank didn't know how much time he could give his family or his friends. One on one his only real hope against the dark lord was a delaying action and reinforcements arriving in time. Alice had already made it to Neville's room and was preparing her last stand and preparing to do what any mother would for their child.

Having already set wards that would disable all means of magical travel Alice and Neville Longbottom had no chance for escape. She knew that and it wasn't worth wasting time trying. The house had been sealed magically; no doors or windows would open. That was a standard practice for Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Seal the house and burn it while the family was trapped inside. A nice painful death was a horrific and effective message to send to other families who might consider defying him. The wave of magic had interlaced with their own home's wards preventing all rapid egress methods.

The only way in or out of the house was the front door that Voldemort was about to blow open. She could try over powering the sealing spell and blowing out a window to escape but Alice had always been more about control than blunt force power. Maybe Dumbledore could have done that had he been here or if he showed up in time but her time was precious and wasting it on something that she didn't believe she could do wasn't an option. No what Alice was going to do was exactly what her and Frank had planned for months ago, she was going to try and turn Neville's room into an impenetrable panic room.

Frank knew what his role would be here. He was the delaying action; a tactical withdraw to a dead end that would cost the Dark Lord the time he needed to execute his assassination on little Neville. Moments after his wife had left the room towards their child's nursery Frank had started his part of the worst case scenario plans. He transfigured every door in the room, save the one he was going to use, into part of the wall before applying notice me not charms and repelling charms to them. Than all the furniture was likewise transformed into tactical cover to aid in his escape. The transfigurations weren't perfect or flashy nor would they last as long as he would have liked but a couch into a brick wall wasn't exactly mastery level work.

Voldemort blew the door off the hinges driving it into the opposing wall with an effortless wave of his wand. He bated away a stunner, a disarming hex, and a full body bind before he had even crossed the threshold of the entry room. He responded with a wide sweeping severing hex that tore apart half of everything in the room before firing off three jets of green light.

Frank jumped backwards through the door while doing his best summon everything in the room into the paths of the killing curses. The curse may have been impossible to stop with any shield charm but it exploded rather violently when it meet something solid. It also destroyed anything solid it hit and peppered anyone or thing behind it with shrapnel. Frank's body had reached it's fight or flight stage as the adrenalin rushed to his brain, heart, and every muscle in the body. It was an odd moment of clarity where the world seemed to slow down for him and allowed him to do things he normally wouldn't of been able to do.

Sealing the door magically and leaving it untransformed Frank summoned everything in the room towards him while rolling forward and continued to turn his house into a labyrinth that lead away from his son's room. He finished by using a Disillusionment Charm in hopes that he could get a few free shots off before being forced to retreat.

Voldemort grinned in spite of himself. So few of his followers were able to entertain him the way the foolish Dumbledore supporters could. He was very much like his favored snake familiar, he truly enjoyed a good hunt against a challenging foe. Even though he had given the patriarch of the family the benefit of attacking in the bears den so to speak he could respect the man's tenacious defense. It wouldn't change the outcome, it never did, but it did make the game so much more enjoyable for the heir of Slytherin. Feeling the magic blocking his way through the door he flicked his wand and vanished it and everything behind it before unleashing a vortex of flaming Fiendfyre into the next room. Riddle had nothing to fear from his own flames having long since perfected his control of the searing heat.

Frank was not nearly so fortunate. The barricade had been erased as if it had never been there and then the flames had started consuming both the oxygen in the room and the magic that permeated the manor. Even with the seconds they had been active they were chewing through the protections on the house like flames through kindling. Retreating once again brought Frank into a hallway lined with suits of armor that he hoped could act as a choke point that would slow down the dark lords advances. Animating each statue as he passed in a near run Frank turned and knelt at the end of the hall and transformed the carpet into a dark gaseous mist before banishing it towards the door he had just left.

The Dark Lord's patience was beginning to wane as he smothered the flames from his curse and once again followed his prey through door he had fled through like a coward. Opening the door he was forced backwards by a battle axe that was attempting to sever his head form his shoulders. Releasing the killing curse at the armored guardian forced the suit of armor backwards into the black gas where the sparks from the impact erupted into a detonation. The Dark Lord brought up a shield while simultaneously suspending the shrapnel that had flown in his general direction. Moments later several spells splashed against his arcane protection. The auror's tactics had proven effective against his minions but now they were just predictable. His response however would not be.

Frank watched his cloud of explosive mist perform exactly as he had expected before firing off the incarceration spell chain. A disarming spell, followed by a full body bind, a high powered stunner, and concluded with a Incarcerous. Ideally the blast had blinded his target and now he would be ready for transport to a holding cell. Frank never expected to hear a second explosion before seeing fragments of rocks headed his way that were shifting from rocks to metal blades. Nor did he have time to fully react and took six lacerations to his arms and legs and three to his stomach. Bleeding, crawling, and gasping in pain Frank made his way into the kitchen knowing it was going to be the room he died in.

Ignoring his pain he flicked his wand towards the door applying the same binding spells he had before. They hadn't stopped the Dark Lord before, they wouldn't now, but maybe they would annoy him. Besides any magical power he had to use now was a bit of power he couldn't use against his family. He flicked his wand towards the drawers willing each of them to open and the cutlery to fly out and elongate into four inch blades. Maybe half the utensils in the house obeyed his flicking command. Making it to the back wall he turned and rested his back against it before magically pulling the table on to it's side and in front of him. Gripping his wand in both hands he prepared his last spells not carrying in the slightest they were lethal.

Riddle reduced the door to splinters before walking in and seeing the first person who was going to die at his hand tonight. Watching the poorly transfigured cutlery fly towards him he whipped his arms apart willing everything that was air born into walls of the room. The red eyed monster side stepped an explosive bombardment spell, deflected a Reductor Curse into the counter, allowed his own shield to take a piercing hex that was aimed for his head, and finally reflected a bone breaking hex back into Frank Longbottom's chest.

Laying there coughing blood, bleeding from nearly a dozen wounds, and having trouble breathing Frank Longbottom had a single last act of defiance in him. His family's safety depended on it. Longbottom Manner wasn't as large as some estates but it was large enough for this purpose. But it wouldn't be if the Dark Lord made eye contact and ripped his mind to shreds to find where his wife and son were hidden. Clutching his wand next to his chest with the tip under his chin Frank muttered the last lines of his life. "Legilimens this you bastard." With that Frank Longbottom, Patriarch of the Longbottom family, reduced his face, eyes, and most importantly his brain into a find red mist.

Alice Longbottom felt the wards of the house snap to her command, diminished that they wore, she knew exactly what had happened. Likewise her marriage band burning, cracking and falling from her finger confirmed what she feared. Her husband was dead and it had only been three minutes. Logically speaking even with all the distractions and misleading Frank had done she doubted she had even five minutes before Voldemort found where they were hiding. She had no idea at all how long her defenses would hold beyond that. She hoped it would be enough for Dumbledore or the DMLE to arrive. Frank had given his life buying them time. All she had was the hope that his last purchase was not in vain.

She flicked her wand to the door she had already transfigured into the wall. Wood wouldn't do anything to help them, not against him. Matches to needles seemed so long ago but the idea was the same even if the scale had never been bigger for her. Flicking her wand back and forth all four walls of the room were replaced slowly with steel. Than all the furniture, save the crib, was against the wall and being transformed into brick walls from floor to ceiling. Alice was getting desperate and was doing everything she could to ensure her child's survival. Pulling and condensing all the magical energy of the wards she focused them on the single most important room in the house.

One of her best friends Lily had once told her that she believed that all magic was about belief and intention and every bit of magic required sacrifice. Most of the time that sacrifice was nothing more than a bit of energy a person would get back within a breath or two. For a more potent spell a person would need a bit of food to recover what had been lost. The math in these respects were easy to figure out. More power required more sacrifice; the more she offered the more her son could be protected. She would offer everything she was and everything she would ever be.

It was a bit like casting a Patronus Charm except she had no words to say. She pointed her wand at her son and willed everything she had to protect him. All her magic drained from her magical core, every last bit of emotion she had ever felt poured from her heart, and than her eyes got heavy and she knew she was going to join her husband. Even if Voldemort never found them she wouldn't be able to survive the night. She watched as her son pulsed and glowed with a white light like she had never seen before as it settled around him like an aegis against all the evil of the world.

She felt the walls rip open as the monster terrorizing the magical world found their panic room. None of the magic she had worked had even phased him. "Stand aside and I will let you live."

With a steadfast resolve she extended her arms and placed her self directly between her son and the man who wanted him dead. "Never."

"Than die." A flash of green light and her final spell was complete.

Magic is a strange and mysterious thing. Maybe the ancient magic of the land heard the mothers final spell. A spell she never verbalized but willed to happen none the less. Maybe it was her acceptance and willing sacrifice to be a lamb at the slaughter in her child's place. Maybe it was fate's intervention that night when the spirit realm was unnaturally close to that of the living. Many things about that night are unknown to any living being. What is known is that the next spell the monster that once was human cast left nothing but a mark and instead of driving young Neville to grace tore the spirit of Tom Riddle from his body.

Unknown to the Dark Lord he had made a flawed decision and in his arrogant belief that he was unstoppable he had had given his greatest enemies that which they needed most. His mistake would allow them the time and eventually the tools to become more then he himself would ever be able to handle. Neville Longbottom would be a potent wizard and a steadfast and loyal friend who would have fought tooth and nail for that which he believed in. Protected by the most potent magic to ever exist his mere touch would incinerate his greatest adversary. Unfortunately without his mother and father there to shield him from an overbearing grandmother the boy would be cowed and lack confidence in his ability. But that in itself would never break the boy's spirit.

Likewise ,Harry Potter, the second child who was marked to die that same night, was spared a life of a house elf. Two boys with indomitable wills that would never be broken. But had the dark lord destroyed the Potter family on that Halloween night much the same would have happened. He would have been reduced to shade stuck between the cross roads of life and the beyond. One child's life would have been destroyed and the other's family would be attacked. Had the Dark lord been driven away by the sacrifice of Lily Potter the young heir to the family name would have been magically orphaned. A fate that would have left him whisked away from the magical world and left in the hands of his abusive muggle relatives. Ten years of abuse would have weakened the boy to the point where only a series of lucky circumstance events stringed together would lead to the Dark Lord's downfall. He, like Neville, would have never stopped fighting for what he believed was right but he would lack the skills, upbringing, and support to challenge Riddle on his own.

Instead, a week following the disappearance of Voldemort the Lestrange family and Barty Crouch Jr. launched and attack on the Potter residence expecting a blood traitor and his mudblood whore to be stupidly celebrating the Dark Lord's downfall like the rest of the wizarding world. They were very much mistaken. Inside the house guarded by a Fidelius charm were three of the marauders and a charms mistress who were offering thanks and remembrance to their lost friends. It was also the misfortune of the last marauder, a traitorous rat, that the four adults inside the home were the only four apart from Wormtail who knew the secret. Or so they thought. Needless to say when the perimeter ward informed the young couple that four people were approaching the house and their own secret keeper was unaccounted for, they knew what had happened.

"Did you feel that Honey?" a nervous looking James Potter intoned to his beautiful red headed wife.

"Yeah I did, the charms and wards are still good and there shouldn't be any way that four people are coming here. Can you see who they are? There should be four of them; Maybe Peter told Dumbledore and some of the professors from school?"

Sirius was the first to the window and what he saw forced his blood to run cold. "Black robes and white masks: Death Eaters." With a sudden loathing he continued, "The rat's a dead man; they either killed him to get the information or he gave it willingly and we'll kill him for that."

It was James who spoke next, "Lily take Harry and get out of here. We can handle this."

"James, you're an idiot if you think I'm leaving my husband and our friends to fight for their lives. Besides, you fool, there are certainly wards preventing us from getting out of here using magic."

For the first time since the Death Eaters had crossed the ward lines the werewolf of the group spoke. "Bicker later, we have unpleasant company to deal with first." He was arguably grumpier then he normally was; after all the full moon was just four nights way and his inner wolf could taste the threat to his pack. A threat that had to be destroyed.

The Lestrange trio were exceptional torturers and executioners and with their family backing, better known as gallons, they had been made a part of the inner circle early in the uprising. However let it be clear that under no circumstances were even the three of them a match for their Dark Lord. Even on Voldemort's worst day he could take six or seven of his best followers and thoroughly thrash them; often without being winded. However the four people inside the house the Lestrange's were currently stalking up to had on three occasions driven the Dark Lord off when working together with just three of the four. Lily with her charms, James with his transfiguration, Sirius with his hexes and curses, and Remus with his werewolf tenacity and his own masterful dueling style were a frightening quartet. And they had home court advantage in a field that Lily and James had prepared especially to defend and repel Voldemort.

There are simple rules that everyone who went to school with the Marauders should have known. One should never allow them to prepare the battlefield ahead of time. And more importantly never allow them to work together. One of the rules could be overcome with enough people and brute force; but with both of them the four approaching Death Eaters didn't even have a third as many people as they needed for their idiocy to succeed. One thing that nobody ever seemed to tell the Death Eaters was that fear only worked so far for so long and only up to a point. Fear became an inert emotion to a parent when a child's life was on the line. Death Eaters would and could never understand that threatening a parent's child is likely to turn them into a force of nature to be reckoned with.

The battle, if it could be called a battle, was short, violent, and brutal. It was more like a slaughter than a battle but not the slaughter the Death Eaters had been expecting. The opening salvo was fired by James when he started transfiguring all the rocks surrounding the house into animals. Big mean animals that had lots of teeth. This was followed by Lily animating all the statues and lawn decorations that she had so painstakingly selected. At this point Remus and Sirius opened fire, one from each window on opposite sides of the house, with curses, hexes, and various other spells meant to disable or in some cases maim their targets. The opening salvo from the Potter residence sounded and looked like an old British firing line. Flashes of fire and light, explosions, animal roars all appeared in under 2 seconds.

On the outside of the house, just inside the fence, the four death eaters were suddenly surrounded and under attack by large felines, wolves, wolverines, boars, and bears. Bartemius went down when a blasting curse landed at his feet and drove him into a charging bear that on impact turned into metal chains and wrapped him from head to toe barely leaving a means for him to breath. Rodolphus had his wand arm severed at the elbow from a particularly savage cutting curse and than found himself under a four hundred pound lion that was dragging him by the neck while he was trying to stop the bleeding. Bellatrix was able to destroy four of the ten animals with killing curses before a wolverine caught her from behind which distracted her long enough for a grizzly bear to shatter her clavicle and render her unconscious when she impacted the ground with the back of her neck. Rabastan dispatched the three animals that headed for him and was the only one of the four to exit the opening salvo in fighting condition. The next twenty eight seconds he shielded, dodged, dived, rolled and wasn't so much as able to think of an offensive spell. In the end he simultaneously lost his wand to Lily, was stunned by Remus, wrapped in chains by James, and petrified by Sirius. The battle of Godric's Hollow lasted a scant thirty seconds.

Moments later Sirius was out the door first, James was checking on Lily who had went to check on Harry. "Mr. Padfoot says that was fun, But really Mr. Prongs should have told us he had arranged for the entertainment tonight; What say you Mr. Moony?"

"Mr. Mooney concurs Mr. Padfoot, although Mr. Moony is more concerned about Mr. Wormtail under the present circumstances."

"Mr. Prongs says we'll worry about Mr. Wormtail tomorrow; he's either dead or he's dead to us. Let's get the Aurors here and get this mess cleaned up on the double." James spoke as he was coming out the door. "We certainly followed the Marauders code on this one." And then as one they spoke again.

"Strike hard, Strike Fast, and Leave chaos in our wake."

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A/N: When I first posted this story I didn't know if anyone would have wanted to read it. In my lack of experience I made several assumptions which I shouldn't of made. I would like to take a moment and offer some things that might make the story easier to read and understand.

First and foremost I'd like to say that I don't intend for this to be a children's story. Make no mistake I have no intention of making or posting explicit sexual scenes within the story. I don't feel the plot needs them and if I ever get the inkling to write one I'll post it under a different story with a proper warning. But that doesn't mean this is a fairy tale by any stretch. There are aspects of the story that are grim, gritty, and most importantly realistic. Death Eaters are terrorists and criminals; I treat them as such and I do my best not to sugar coat the reality of the situation. Not everyone gets a happy ending, those on the wrong side of the fence won't survive the aftermath.

As a writer I believe it is my responsibility to entertain you the reader. If when you close your browser or move away from my story you can say that it was time well wasted then overall I am satisfied. My true goal is to make you think and feel something. If at the end when you close your browser you have laughed, cried, been happy, angry, or sad then I have succeeded.

A person is predominantly a product of their environment and their genetics. By changing the former Harry in effect becomes a different person. It's like looking into a carnival mirror, all the pieces are still there but they manifest differently. Some things are more mutated while others are more extreme. Harry will say and do things in a different manner than what is considered normal. Likewise any person he interacts will change accordingly. Ripples in time create a new world with new people as the ripples touch them. Those at the epicenter change the next instant, those further out change last. But everybody changes.

For the purposes of this story I'm estimating that the wizarding world represents at most .1% of the population. For the UK that's roughly 60,000 thousand people.


	2. Chapter 2: A New Start

A/N: Don't own Harry Potter or the characters. I will however take credit for any chaos caused by the flapping of a butterfly's wing.

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Voldemort was vanquished. People celebrated. The Longbottom's had been nearly eradicated. People mourned. Neville had survived the killing curse from one of the most terrifying dark wizards to have ever lived. People celebrated. Death eaters escaped justice. People mourned. Death eaters went to jail. People celebrated. Most importantly life went on.

The three Marauders searched the last of their groups dwelling looking for clues that might tell them where he was. James and Sirius were there for each of the raids at confirmed Death Eater safe houses. They interviewed every suspected Death Eater to the maximum extent the law allowed but they never discovered anything of substance. They never did find their rat friend and their only regret was not knowing if he had betrayed them and vanished or if he had broken under torture and been killed after the fact. The end result didn't matter. Either way the Potter family had been betrayed and the rat was likely never to be forgiven. The only difference would've been the way he was buried; the later would have earned the rat a place of begrudging respect. If it had been the former they would have buried him themselves in his animal form in pieces. The marauders had fully believed that Peter would have gladly died before he told anyone where they were hiding. They could have accepted, in time, he broke under torture. But the lack of a body, the dull looks in suspects eyes at the mention of his name, and a simple gut feeling kept James and Sirius from ever accepting that he had been loyal. Instead they cursed his name and did everything they could to forget he was ever a part of their life.

James and Sirius continued their careers with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as Aurors. Money wasn't an issue for either of them and after being in the war for so long they really didn't know anything other than fighting. It was rewarding in it's own way. Breaking up smuggling rings, breaking up dens and nests of dark creatures who chose to be violent instead of seeking alternative choices, and investigating misuse of magic on muggles all brought a smile to the pair's face. Not quite the smile breaking up a domestic disturbance dispute brought to their face. But it was close. Sirius had a particular soft spot for children in less than peaceful homes having been the target of a curse or two from his mother's wand.

Lily was recruited as an unspeakable and worked in the Department of Mysteries research branch. Her background in researching old tomes, charms, and arithmancy was ideal for what the research division wanted. Arithmancy had a strong foundation in mathematics and was all about understanding and application of rules and reasoning to magic. Of all the arcane arts to study it was by and large the closest to a science even if it was an off shoot of divination. For Lily the job was a god send, she was allowed to do what she did best and what she loved. It was one of the few jobs in the Ministry that was entirely based on merit and had nothing to do with her marrying into an old pure blooded family. The only other unconnected offer she had received was to come teach at Hogwarts. Had it not been for the things the headmaster had said and done after the war had ended she might have taken him up on it.

When Lily was recruited for her own career Remus was recruited as a tutor for his favorite nephew. Remus had often had troubles with employment after leaving Hogwarts and was far to proud to accept money from either of his two well to do friends. For Lily and James it was the best solution they could hope to find. They kept their family close, their son well protected, and Remus was able to study for his masteries that he wanted to pursue. Harry was allotted personal lessons from the brains of the marauders and was educated to the best of the werewolf's abilities while being able to see one of his two favorite uncles everyday.  
Just after thanksgiving at the age of four Harry was introduced to Roselyn Hope Potter; A red headed baby girl with hazel eyes reminiscent of their father. While most young children would have found the sudden lack of attention disappointing, Harry found Rose to be a miracle unto herself. There was an innocence and purity to the girl that captivated his heart the same way an infant can captivate anybody else. It was James who pulled Harry into his room after they returned home from the hospital with the newest addition to the family. There at the age of four Harry had his first Father-Son conversation. The topic? What it meant to be a big brother and his responsibilities. Harry was rarely far from Rose, but he rarely held or played with her in that first year. He was afraid he'd break the little flower or manage to hurt her in Flower became a name that would follow the brother and sister for years.

In the wizarding world there was always an unstated understood position of the oldest son being the heir to the family; the future head who in time would take the mantle of leadership from his father. James explained to young Harry that being a big brother was in a way part of growing up and accepting that responsibility. Rose would need a protector, a tutor, an advisor , a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen to ear troubles, and most importantly and more than anything else a friend she could always depend on. It was a conversation Harry took to heart. Whenever Remus watched the two children or walked Harry through his lessons Harry always opted to be close to Rose.  
Within the year Lily had wanted to enroll Harry into a private muggle school for various reasons. The least of which being for him to have a group of friends his own age. The extra learning and discipline was only an extra benefit in her mind. James of course didn't believe it was wise or practical. Ultimately it was Harry who decided the argument. It simply would not have been possible for a five year old Harry Potter to go to a muggle school; by that age magical things were happening around Harry four or five times a day. What had initially been cute uncontrolled accidental magic, like summoning a stuffed bear from another room as a toddler, was quickly becoming pointedly controlled magic. Like summoning a cookie from on top of the counter after being told no or changing Sirius's hair pink when his godfather pulled him off his training broom. James had been forced to scribe anti summoning charms and runes into nearly everything in the house but that wasn't a luxury they would have at a muggle school. Lily was forced to admit that while a five year old could control his magic enough to make it do what he wanted the child in no way could be expected to have enough personal control to be allowed into a muggle classroom.

Despite Lily's concession James was forced to accept a compromise of a home study program for the beginning of a muggle education. Not that it was a large concession on his part and Remus, who often drifted between the mundane and magical world, was more then keen to serve as Harry's teacher. It was a positively normal life for Harry Potter up to the age of six. He took to his lessons well enough, often preferring practical explanations and exercises over lectures and theory. He visited with other magical children from old families during large social events and was able to pull off the pureblood traditions without the arrogance; a feat his mother had taken a great deal of effort to inspire in him. Neville Longbottom was without question his closest friend his age, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot were close acquaintances but as girls were "icky" it'd be years before they were ever classified as friends. The Weasley clan was a distantly seen bunch who never really floated in the same circle as the Potters. There were many reasons the first of which was the difference in the parents ages. The Arthur and Molly had started having kids when Lily and James had started their first year at Hogwarts. A ten year gap isn't to extreme to overcome but it did put them in distinctly different circles of friends. Unfortunately for one Harry Potter his beloved normal life would come crashing down the day after his sixth birthday.

The two more reckless of the remaining marauders saw fit to introduce Harry into the family legacy the day after his sixth birthday in the only way they knew how. A trial by fire. In short they pranked him two or three times a week in hopes they'd drive him to retaliation. While Lily was against it in principal she allowed it to happen in hopes that Harry would retaliate and develop a back bone. Lily, like many other muggle born witches and wizards, had been somewhat bullied when she was younger before she attended Hogwarts. Her sister Petunia had spent a great deal of effort informing everybody how freaky things always happened around Lily. If Harry learned to stand up for himself and to fight back, even against his father and god father, she wouldn't ever have to worry about him being a victim as she had been.  
Now Harry was a naturally patient person. Lashing out was more often than not his last resort and normally undertaken only after a great deal of effort. He could handle a lot of things quietly and without complaint and he was very slow to anger. Months of juvenile pranks would erode his patience and put him on a short fuse but even then he didn't retaliate; that is until the two of them crossed the line. He'd already been having a bad day, the two pranksters thought it would be a good idea to wake Harry up with a bucket of ice water, and James and Sirius's heckling had needled him more than usual. All Harry wanted to do was to go on a flight on his broom, training model that it was but it was still flying, and the two of them had hidden it. Two hours later when he had finally found it just as he was stepping over the shaft he felt it surge and grow. And then he saw a flash of light. And then he heard the sounds of laughter. Three very distinct sounds of laughter. Looking down he saw not his broom but a miniature stuffed purple unicorn. Looking over to the marauders he saw the three of them holding a camera.

He didn't know the words. He didn't have a wand. But he knew what he wanted; magic is 90% intention and belief. Moments later there was a far more feminine laughter and a six year old boy left the stuffed unicorn on the lawn as he marched back into the house and into his room. It would take Lily a half hour to stop laughing long enough to reverse the transfigured pink pony with purple hearts back into her husband, the powder blue Chihuahua back into her son's god father, and striped cat back into his tutor. It was the first time anyone had ever seen Harry actually get mad; apparently he had inherited Lily's temper.

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A/N The chapters and story will begin to pick up soon. Rather than provide a day to day synopsis for Harry's childhood I am instead trying to show the highlights so to speak. That and to be perfectly honest It's been a long time since I was six. I'd rather not maim a characters childhood with poor characterization if I can avoid it.


	3. Chapter 3: A new Marauder

A/N: Don't own Harry Potter or the characters within.

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Harry was mumbling to himself as he stormed into the house. "I'll show them. They want pranks they'll get more pranks than they know what to do with." Lily's temper. James vindictiveness. It's a shame James and Sirius couldn't let a sleeping giant slumber; they really had no clue what they had awakened. But had they known better they wouldn't' have been the Marauders when they were in school. Harry's first stop, before heading to his room, was his father's study. There he acquired a catalogue of Zonko's and seven journals, one for each year the Marauders were in school. His dad had showed them where they were after he had started reading in a vain attempt to inspire him along the ways of a budding prankster. These journals were essentially a road map through the Marauders greatest escapades and Harry would have a front row seat.

The art of pranking is a skill that has to be developed over time and can only grow through use. The Marauders had gotten lots of practice in the last decade in a half. As far as Harry was concerned it was just more catching up for him to overcome. They even had rules! Things like a wary target is no target at all. Or Harry's personal favorite never leave evidence of tampering. For the next six months Harry unleashed a positively amateur display of mundane and pre-made magical pranks against the three remaining marauders. For the most part they humored him and tutored him through practical demonstrations. Water balloons suspended with a basic hover charm he had managed to work with pure intent often fell at the Marauders feet. Potions that had been ordered were found with a simple diagnostic charm. That's not to say Harry didn't have successes against his predecessors; the ink in the tea before Sirius and James left for work was very much loved by his mother. Until James had kissed her and she herself was left with blackened teeth.

It hadn't taken long for Harry to determine that Zonko's prank materials were simply worthless against the likes against of his adversaries. They were excessively obvious and their magical signature must've glowed to the marauders pranking senses because Harry was only able to get one in ten to work. And most of those were more like Mundane pranks with a magical twist than truly magical pranks. For example the magical snakes in a can that would jump out of a tube when drawers were opened or soaking clothes in an ointment that caused nonstop hiccups. That didn't mean Harry didn't learn from trying to use them. His creativity and sneakiness were becoming rather impressive for a seven year old. He was a far stretch from a fifth year James Potter with an invisibility cloak and a Marauders map but he was almost always able to get his current prank into position without getting caught.

That being said the mundane pranks required far more creativity, planning, and were generally more effective. James and Sirius spent a week trying to figure out why they had a sudden case of jock itch when Harry added itching powder in their undergarments. They responded with a potion that turned Harry navy blue for three days. Harry fired back by adding sugar to their aftershave and cologne; they spent months trying to stop the flies and bees from attacking them without ever figuring out what the problem was. Typically Uncle Moony was left out of Harry's attacks on his elders but that wasn't the case when Harry added hair dye to Remus' shampoo and body wash; the result was a slow change in the werewolf's hair color that ended with a pink haired werewolf on the full moon. Remus had been particularly indulging in his response as he added a delayed shrinking charm to the boy's underclothes. Remus hadn't ever taken part in anything up till then but he felt he was over due. Harry's favorite masterpiece of mundane pranks involved fishing line, flour, and one Sirius's black shower. Lily and James each nearly wet themselves when Padfoot flooed to their house looking like someone had dumped a bucket of plaster on him.

It hadn't taken Harry a long time studying James journals to realize that he was at a severe disadvantage. They had wands and were allowed to practice magic at their leisure. They had experience and years of practice. Most importantly they had resources and skills that Harry did not. Harry had his own brand of magic but controlled accidental magic wasn't the same as trained magic flowing through a wand. And Lily and James were very strict about Harry not using a wand until he went to Hogwarts; it wouldn't do for two Ministry employees to willingly break their own laws. However that didn't mean there wasn't magic the Ministry didn't track or monitor.

In particular potions, a field that James sorely lacked in, was easily the best field of magic to start in. They were untraceable unless they required a spell to be intoned over the brew, which was only the most difficult and obscure potions, and had a wide enough range of effects that the field was rather ideal for what Harry wanted. This time he borrowed his mother's journals and books on the art. It was also at the age of seven that Harry found out about Uncle Mooney's furry little problem.

It wasn't something that was hidden but it wasn't something that they had ever talked about either. Lily, James, and Sirius out of respect for Remus. Remus out of fear of rejection and shame. Harry knew Remus wasn't dangerous; and it was all to easy to see the loneliness that the marauders barely kept away. The lingering fear of rejection ever present in the werewolf's aura wasn't hard to miss either. Reading on Harry discovered how and why Sirius and his father (along with a name that had been crossed out repeatedly) had done what they did; Mooney's transformation was both painful and lonely. The Marauders made it a point to keep their brother company and sane instead of allowing him to be dominated by the beast within.

To Harry the how was the more important part of what he discovered; the why was a forgone conclusion. If any of his family needed a hand, or in this case a paw, then Harry would move heaven and earth to give them just that. It wasn't a matter of arrogance or pride, just a relentless stubbornness he had inherited from each of his parents.

Each of the three people who had become animagi had taken a slightly different route on the way to obtaining their animal forms. For James it was a matter of meditating until he discovered his inner animal and self transfiguration to force the change; he'd always been gifted with transfiguration and developing self transfiguration into the animagus shift wasn't an impossible leap. For Padfoot it was a combination of a potion to reveal his inner animal and meditation to commune with it until he was able to take its shape through sheer will. The last unnamed individual had undergone the least amount of work; Sirius had brewed a potion that "made his body more pliable to change" and his father had repeatedly transfigured the missing name until the body was able to replicate the transformation on it's own.

Oddly enough Pettigrew, not that Harry knew that was his name, was the only one of the three who underwent the same method the ministry used when they helped a person become an animagus. James' method was really just an off shot of human transfiguration; anyone with enough skill in transfiguration could in theory be able to handle multiple animal forms with enough time and practice. Of the three of them only Sirius had actually communed with his guardian animal and taken it, and by extension his own, nature to heart. He was the closest to the true animagus rite of passage of the Native Americans that had been bastardized in its return to England.

It had been a curious passage written almost in the margins of his father's journal that had caught Harry's attention. Harry wanted to become an animagus to help Remus the same as his godfather and his father had. That much was a given. What Harry lacked was a method and manner in which to initiate the transformation. Without a wand and a few years of transfiguration training he couldn't replicate what James had done nor would anyone help him the way they had their third friend. The potions Sirius had used, both the revealing potion and the potion of malleability, were far too complex, time sensitive, and expensive for Harry to manage on his own. However by crossing James's method of discovery with Sirius's method of transformation it was a possibility Harry felt was within his abilities. The hinging point of the matter was a matter of meditation and was really the only requirement. It'd take years but when an unstoppable force meets anything less than an unmovable object it is only a matter of time.

The next year followed in much the same pattern as the year before it; albeit it with a bit less chaos. It was a sort of controlled chaos instead of the all encompassing chaos the initial prank war had been. The Marauders had in effect agreed to a sort of rules of engagement. In early August after Harry's seventh birthday Lily had incidentally and accidentally been caught in a prank from James meant for Harry; a sound tongue lashing later was followed by dragging all four of her boys into the family room where she had demanded there be a semblance of order in her house. In other words she had threatened to hex them into pieces if she got caught in a stray prank again. It was an ultimatum for compliance or hurricane Lily would make landfall inside each of their sanctuaries. None of the adults wanted that and Harry was intelligent enough to realize that if it scared the three of them it should probably scare him as well.

The rules became ever simple. Each of the four boys were assigned to a suit from a deck of cards. Each week a card from each suit went into a bag where each person had to draw a card from. The suit you drew determined your target for the week and was to be keep secret; in the "unfortunate" event you drew your own suit you were expected to land a prank on each of the other three in one fell swoop. The Marauders and Harry had accepted certain conditions for the pranks being allowed to continue; the first of which was for Lily not to be caught in the crossfire. Beyond that it was understood that the pranks were meant to be kept more or less harmless. Embarrassing, annoying, irritating, and time consuming on the other hand were all considered fair game.

It was also this year when Harry attempted to study potions for pranking. It was in short, a disaster. Even with his mother's old textbooks, her journals on school work (because neither he nor she wanted him reading her journals on ... non school stuff), and Remus's help Harry was less than stellar with potions. He could follow instructions and recipes. He could make the connections between similar potions, salves, and brews. He was perfectly capable of preparing his ingredients. But if it wasn't a laid out step by step map on how to create a potion he couldn't manage it. The theory and intricacies of potion making was simply lost on Harry. His only respite in the field was that he was able to create potions to near perfection. He just didn't understand why or how they worked, only that they did. Creating and modifying potions was similarly very much beyond his ability. Harry could handle the mechanical aspects of the field but the artistic mastery of potion crafting was never going to be within his reach. Than again a machines in the muggle world handled all the potion making those without magic would ever need. They just called it manufacturing.

It was a very long year of borderline successful pranks for one Harry Potter. Come Christmas time he had so many potions explode in his face, flat out fail, or do something _nice_ that the three marauders were deeply concerned about Harry's state of mind. Honestly who considers clearing up a person's skin complexion a prank? It was James who figured out that Harry just couldn't prank with a potion the way Sirius and Remus could. It was something he could understand and was oddly proud of; he'd hated potions too and it was a bonding point for the Potter men. It was only a book entitled _Practical Applications and Uses of Ancient Runes_: _an Introduction _that Harry received from his father on Christmas that would pull his floundering prank career, and in some regards the boy's sanity, out of its nose dive.

"Now Harry this book was written by my grandfather and he gave it to my dad who gave it to me. Now it's my turn to give to you. My grandfather and father worked as curse breakers and warders, as did a lot of our ancestors, but because of the war I went into Law Enforcement. I've no regrets son; I love my job and it's a job that needs to be done. But my hope is that you will have the luxury of going into any field you want. This book is part of a Potter tradition. Learn from it and use it well."


	4. Chapter 4: Hello Mr Shadow

A/N: Don't own Harry Potter or the characters.

* * *

To say that Harry enjoyed his family's heritage in the study of ancient runes would be like saying James and Sirius enjoyed the occasional prank. In short he devoured the book; after all there were so few ways to do magic without using a wand. And it was such a fascinating field to study. OK maybe not study but certainly to utilize.

In Hogwarts the first two years of ancient runes study was dedicated to memorization and deciphering rune script. Perhaps it was one of the defining reasons students considered the course so difficult. It wasn't until the beginning of their fifth year did students actually start building rune sequences and even then they were primitive basic scripts. After three years of study students could create the mundane equivalent of a light bulb; was it really a wonder not many pursued the course into NEWT level work?

The Potter family had a different methodology when it came to learning and utilizing runes. Here are the rules that you can never break, here are the mechanics on how runes work, here are the structures runic script can take, and here is a dictionary. Have fun. In that respect it was very much like throwing a kid into a deep end with a life jacket. If the child would like to swim they'd learn how and they'd continue to love it. IF they didn't they'd get out of the pool and go back into the house.

In respect to runes Harry liked to swim. He also found he was very, very good at it. The instructions in the book his ancestor had written, which had been rewritten by his father, were simple and easy to follow and inspired creativity. It was right there in the introduction of the book. Any spell could be created or simulated using the right runic script.

The first thing Harry had been forced to learn in utilizing runes was to learn how to craft the master rune component. The runic script would control what the rest of the runes did and how they got their power. Even in something that seemed fairly straight forward there were a multitude of variables. The master control rune could allow the item to absorb ambient magic to either provide a permanent effect or continually charge storage runes so that the item would always be prepared for use. They could strictly draw from the wizard that was using the item or runes in question or they could require being charged like batteries after each use. Harry's first runic script was a five word script written on paper that would turn the paper red when he applied magic to the runes. Simple and basic but for an eight year old with three days of reading it was craftsmanship at its finest. Harry spent an hour silently giggling as he watched the paper change colors over and over again.

Things of course only grew in complexity and usefulness after that. One of Harry's premiere examples, at least in his mind, included etching runes that repelled dirt and organic material when in water. Combined that with a delayed heating and water repelling rune script and Harry never spent more then five minutes doing the dishes again. Into the water the dirty plates went and out they came good as new. Fifteen seconds later they were dry and ready to go back into the cabinet. It took Lily six weeks to figure out how he was managing one of his chores so fast and when she did she was so impressed she couldn't even properly scold the boy for misuse of magic. Harry had a similar set of runes on his clothes, furniture, and carpet (save those were activated by touch and not by water).

And really the study of ancient runes was not near as dangerous as people made it out to be. There were a number of hard and fast rules. Rule one never cross the languages. Just as you wouldn't start a sentence in English, switch to Italian in the middle, and end it with Arabic you wouldn't mix the runic languages with each other. The results were less than pleasant most of the time. A master with a century worth of experience might be able to get away with it but by and large it wasn't worth the risk. Rule two never work on a charged runic script; that was a curse-breaker or ward breaker's job. They often didn't have a choice and had the special training to handle the extra challenges. Rule three the limits of what a rune could accomplish was determined by the quality and quantity of the goods and craftsmanship.

The last rule was particularly important in the creation of enchanted goods and wards. Granted a ward could be created using nothing but a wand but tying that same ward to a prepared wardstone would create a stronger permanent ward. Likewise some materials allowed for more magical power, (platinum and diamonds) while others allowed for more magical reserves (gold and onyx) while some were more cost effective (silver and quartz).

Things would continue in a semblance of normal for the Potter residence until Rose's sixth birthday. The boy's pranks on each other had remained calm if constant. Harry's use of ancient runes was nothing short of masterpieces at times. Hair growing, color changing, tripping, and sulfur smelling runes when combined with delayed release runes made for fantastic pranks. One of Harry's favorites was a levicorpse based rune that he'd draw on the inside of a shoe or sock only to have it go off in the middle of the ministry atrium. It's amazing how long silver thread can go undetected; one of the best times, or worst if you ask the victim, Sirius had been flirting with Lord Greengrass's youngest daughter and Harry's prank went off just as they were passing the fountain. Sirius's flailing around had knocked the young blond into the water and had cost him a date with the beauty.

Unfortunately for the three marauders history was not meant to repeat itself. In early December the three of them made a horrible mistake. The week after Rose's sixth birthday they thought to give the girl her own initiation. The week before when the three of them had come asking for Harry's help on her prank he had politely declined them and warned them ever so gently that it would not be a good idea. The marauders failed to take the green eyed boy's advice to heart. Instead they ended up making the girl who looked like Lily with James eyes cry.

It could be said that Harry was both the best and worst parts of his parent's combined. He was companionate and understanding like Lily. He was fun loving and charming like James. He had a sense of justice and morality like his mother and a protectiveness that exceeded even that of his father's. He had inherited his father's raw magical power, and then some, and to a degree his mother's control along with a measure of each of their best skills. He had Lily's intelligence and James's creativity and intuition. It was a shame he also had picked up all of Lily's temper and his father's vindictiveness. While it was generally true that Harry was not at all the prideful arrogant bully that James had been when he was younger, woe be to those who threatened that what the young boy cherished. And the Marauders had made Rose cry. If there was a higher power, spirits, or fate then they would've felt sorry for the stag, grim, and werewolf. Oh they wouldn't' have bothered helping them but they would've felt sorry for them. After all they had brought on Harry Potter's wrath of their own accord.

For two weeks it wasn't safe for the marauders to step foot outside of their sanctuaries. Harry hit them with every prank, trap, and wandless hex he could manage. And not the annoying ones like he tended to prefer. No these were the ones that made it look like they wet themselves in public. Or made them smell like they worked in a dung bomb factory. Or made them have daydreams about one greasy potion master. In short it was abject humiliation. Then there was Harry's masterpiece. Nobody else knows what Harry did or how he did it. However the end result was clear. None of the Marauders could look each other in the eye or sit down comfortably for four days and a marauders oath was given that no Potter girl would ever be targeted for a prank again; not that anyone would consider risking a prank in that house again for well over two years. Harry was also grounded for two months but he considered it a fair exchange for the oath. Remus, Sirius, and James were forced to classify Harry's final attack as a class thirteen prank with seven separate components. In short it was considered to cruel for even Snape.

For Harry it was a break from the amusement his uncles and father enjoyed so much and time to dedicate to an old project that was starting to show signs of bearing fruit. An hour or two of meditation a day for over three years was starting to pay off. It had taken almost two years to even find the guardian animal that lived inside of him. Ever since he had come face to face with it he had been trying to successfully commune with it.

Part of communing with your inner animal was communing with yourself; understanding and accepting your true self for what you are. Sirius black was ferocious and vicious to his enemies; and he'd always be loyal to his friends and those he considered his true family. James had at the time been prideful and arrogant; even years later while that had mellowed it wasn't gone. But accepting yourself for what you are isn't always a pleasant task. Looking in the mirror and seeing a rat, a snake, or a vulture couldn't of been easy to accept no matter who was looking in the mirror. Likewise looking into the eyes of your spirit and seeing an apex hunter was startlingly difficult for an almost nine year old.

Accepting such a thing and proving your worth to such an animal, the final step of the journey, is far from easy. There was no doubt in Harry's mind where he would be sorted when he went to Hogwarts; his inner animal was a personification of fearlessness through jumping without looking, passion for justice, and of valor and honor. But there was so much more to his animal and coming to grips with what they meant had been a long trek indeed. Accepting the mantle of leadership that would surely come from the aura of charisma and confidence that his guardian radiated had not been easy. Acknowledging the depth of his power and strength, of mind and spirit if not yet flesh, had been daunting. The truth of the matter is that accepting the truth of yourself and completing the bond with your guardian animal doesn't create a change in the person - it removes a mask and allows the true nature of a person to shine through.

Three weeks after Harry's grounding ended he succeeded in making his first change which was just on time for what he wanted. The last day of February drew around and Harry approached his dad at mid day. "Dad I know you're going to Uncle Remus' house tonight to help him with the change and I want to go too."

"Son, how did you find out about Mooney's furry little problem?"

"It was in your journal, Dad; and it's not like we've ever tried to hide it."

"Don't tell Uncle Moony that's where you found out, it's not something he's comfortable talking about... and besides son if you know about Uncle Remus being a werewolf then you know it won't be safe to be around him right?"

"But it's safe for you and Uncle Sirius!"

"Yeah Harry it is but that's because me and Padfoot can each turn into an animal... you've seen us do that a hundred times son. It's not safe for you there."

"Than take me over there and bring me back home before the full moon. Please, Dad, I have an early birthday present I'd like to give Uncle Remus."

After another twenty minutes of persuasion Harry was able to win a two hour visit to Remus. Coming through the fireplace Harry was immediately aware he was in the presence of a predator that would soon be unleashed. Remus looked like hell and from the bloodshot eyes anyone could tell he hadn't been sleeping well. "Prongs why the hell did you bring Pronglet over here tonight!"

"Harry knows Remus." James almost never used the Marauders real names; when he did it was only of the most serious circumstances. Three words. That's all it took for Remus's heart to break. A million fears filtered through his mind before he could even hope to contain them to know that Lily and James's child could ever believe them. That those fears weren't possible because they weren't in Harry's nature. James continued, knowing what his friend's mind was doing to him. "He said he had something he wanted to say to you and to give you an early birthday present."

"He wants to give me something?" Maybe this wouldn't be so bad; maybe the closet thing to a son he'd ever believed he was going to have didn't hate him on sight now. Maybe just maybe he wasn't going to see barely controlled fear in Harry's eyes. "What do you have to give me Harry?"

"I just wanted to tell you uncle Remus that I'll always love you and you'll never be alone." And with that Harry hugged his adopted uncle stepped back and initiated his change. For Remus and James it was a sight to see. Harry's change wasn't the well practiced blurring that James or Sirius had perfected long ago. The young boy's body shifted and elongated. He fell to all fours while his head and limbs grew to support his added weight. Black fur with slightly darker stripes and spots appeared before their eyes. Clothes were ripped apart as the small ten year old child was replaced with a hunter. And at last fingernails meant to protect the fragile digits of a human hand gave way to claws meant for fighting and hunting. The change lasted twenty seconds, a far cry from James's ability to transform in a single bound, but the process was none the less impressive. Where once had stood a ten year old boy there now laid a seven hundred pound three meter long one meter tall panther with emerald eyes.

Harry changed back to his human form with two adults with stunned and shocked expressions staring at him. "So can I go tonight with you guys?" It was a dumbfounded nod from Prongs that sealed the deal; after all you can't really tell a ten year old who's spent three years working on something that hard they're not allowed to bask in their accomplishment.


	5. Chapter 5: Initiation to a brotherhood

It was several seconds before anything was said. Remus looked to James who looked at Harry whose head was flickering back and forth between the two Marauders like he was missing a conversation he couldn't hear. That of course was quite impossible because since his first change his sense of hearing had been quite sensitive. So had his eyesight and sense of smell but that wasn't the point in question. No, Harry was sure if there was a conversation going on it was being had without any words.

Finally it was James who spoke up first in jubilation. "Moony do you see this! My son's a prodigy! Bloody hell, me and Sirius couldn't manage that until we were fourth years and that rat could only manage it after I changed him into one first a hundred or so times."

"I must say Prongs I am impressed. Tell me Harry, when did you start working on this?"

"Just after my seventh birthday. I was reading Dad's old Hogwarts journals for good prank material and I came across the part about you being a werewolf and how the rest of them wanted to help you. I thought I could help Uncle Remus too, so I started working on it that very night. I've put at least hour a night into doing this ever since then." The misty eyed werewolf's only response was to hug the boy tightly to his chest and mutter his heart felt thanks several times over.

Walking over to his son, James knelt and held the boy at arms length. "Over three and a half years of work; you might just be more stubborn than me and your mother. I must say I am impressed with you, son. You're a good boy and you're going to be a great man when you finish growing up." Looking up to the man he had long considered a brother he continued. "Does that calm your fears, old friend? Never doubt that Harry or Rose sees you as anything other than a beloved Uncle."

"Thank you for this, Harry; I doubt I'll get any present that will match it for many years to come. And I know you're right, James, but that doesn't always change the way I feel. Anyway, I believe we have more important things to think about now." The semi-evil gleam in the amber eyes suggested not malice but elation at the thoughts of the last marauder's response to this great news. "Before we can induct the first member of the next generation into our brotherhood I believe we have the perfect opportunity for a prank on our missing member."

"Mr. Moony are you talking about a prank on Mr. Padfoot?"

"Of course I am, Mr. Prongs."

"At a time like this, Mr. Moony?"

"Of course my esteemed Mr. Prongs."

"By god you're right, Mr. Moony, I can not recall a better opportunity then this, can you? What ever did you have in mind?" The gleam in the eyes of one Remus Lupin suggested that whatever the werewolf had in mind for the grim would be utterly delightful.

An hour later James fire called for Sirius to come over with the explanation that Remus had something he wanted to show him. It was both truthful and believable enough that Padfoot never thought to consider he was about to become a victim. Chapter three of the Prankster's Handbook was dedicated to the idea that a wary target is no target at all. And here Sirius Black, after nearly two decades of being around his closest friends, was letting his guard down. Most people would have pitied the fool if they hadn't been one of his many targets. Those people just declared that karma was a bitch and turnabout was fair play.

Taking a deep breath as he entered Moony's cabin in the woods where the three remaining marauders transformed every month Sirius was hit with an odd scent. "Moony, did you get a cat?" Sirius had picked up a slight increase in his senses when he had become an animagus but without transforming into Padfoot Sirius was limited to identifying only the generalities of what was in Moony's home. Had he been transformed he would have known that the "cat" he was talking about out weighed him by several magnitudes. However, all Sirius Black the man was able to discern was that there was a feline about.

"Yeah I did, Padfoot. That's actually what I wanted to show you. He's upstairs in my room; want to go see him?"

"You brought me over here to see a ruddy cat?"

"Yes I brought you over here to see a cat. I'll have you know this is the first pet I've had since I was attacked and turned as a child. I've always been too worried that my nature would scare the poor thing off or I'd accidentally confuse the poor thing for food and come around to a dead animal in the morning. I'll have you know this is a very big deal for me, Padfoot." Either the amber in Remus' eyes was from the nearing of the full moon or outrage that his friend didn't understand the importance of this event. Not that it really mattered to Sirius; if his friend was excited to have a cat then he'd be happy for his friend for having a cat. All the same he himself was more of dog person but if this was one of the few flaws in Remus' personality he'd deal with it just the same as he had everything else. He'd poke it and prod it and make fun of it until it bit him. Just the same he had never quite come to terms with the idea of having a pet that treated your house as its own personal water closet.

"Fine fine let's go see this bloody cat of yours." Up the stairs Sirius followed his two closest friends into the master bedroom of the small home. Well, it was small compared to the standard Wizarding home which typically were larger and stranger then most normal families required. Walking into the room he could without fail tell the cat was in the room. For his enhanced senses the room truly reeked of feline musk. "Dear Merlin, Remus how can you possibly like this animal? I'd think with your nose your nostrils would be on fire."

"It's not that bad, Padfoot. I gave him some sleeping potion for my change so he should be out for the night; he's over in the closet why don't you take a look at him."

"Fine. After I see your cat are we going to eat? You know James acts like a baby if we're out all night and don't eat before hand. I swear Lily's got that boy so spoiled he wouldn't know what to do without her."

Harry laid in wait listening to the asinine banter of the old friends. He'd been waiting here for thirty minutes ever since they had finalized the plan for Sirius's introduction to the newest Marauder. A temporary expansion charm and a few charms to make the closet look darker and harder to see into and all Harry had to do was wait. James and Remus of course had rigged several cameras to take pictures of the event and had them hidden discreetly in the hallways and stairwell under disillusionment charms as not to warn their prey. And finally Harry didn't have to wait anymore.

Sirius opened the door and stuck his head in and with his words sealed his fate. "Now where the hell is this little bugger." Harry thought to himself that he would enjoy this right before he let out a deafening roar. The look on Sirius face was priceless. Where before it had a look of annoyance it was shifting to surprise and fear. But it didn't come close to the look on his face when Harry, in his panther form, lunged out of the closet with his teeth bared.

Sirius in perfect form, as usual, screamed like a little girl. Working on pure instinct he had drawn his wand without thinking before realizing that he couldn't hex the beast in Remus' closet. How the bloody hell would he explain to one of his best friends that he had accidentally killed his first pet on the day he got him? Wand not quite extended or pointing at the cat he stood there dumbfound not quite sure what to do as he was trying to backpedal. Harry took the option out of his hands.

Harry had watched him go for his wand and while he was perfectly sure that Remus or his dad could stop Sirius it would ruin so much of the prank if they did. So with the eyes and coordination of a hunter he batted the wand across the room by swiping, with claws retracted mind you, at Sirius's hand. Sirius, disarmed and correctly terrified of the monster in front of him, turned and ran. Harry followed growling and roaring the entire way down the hall way to the corner where the stairs were. Harry slammed into the wall as Sirius turned the corner to head downstairs. Watching Sirius pseudo fly down the stairs Harry internally grinned to himself as he felt the Panther in his mind nudge his next action.

Sirius was already planning on maiming Remus after he killed his pet. Two decades of friendship and Remus was letting his pet try and eat him! Sirius turned around at the bottom of the stairs hoping to God that Remus had the thing on a leash or wards set up so the damn thing couldn't get loose. He was, of course, sorely disappointed when instead of the black beast being at the top of the stairs it was in mid lunge and two seconds, that seemed to stretch for an eternity, from crushing him under its massive body weight. He was wandless and under wards that kept him from disapparating with death hanging over his head. There was nothing he could do but hope and pray that his friends stopped the beast before he was too far gone for St. Mungo's to help him.

Harry landed on top of his godfather and looked him in the eyes. Gray orbs met emerald eyes and there was no sounds save the beating of Sirius heart and his labored breath. Harry shifted back to his human form while still sitting on his godfather. "You smell like pee." And indeed he did. The sounds of two men dying of laughter wafted through the house as James and Remus looked down on the duo from the top of the stairs.

Sirius was shocked. He'd been had! He'd nearly died! Or at least he thought he did. Apparently he wasn't ever in any real danger. Harry was an animagus! He'd pissed himself! And he somewhat remembered seeing flashes of light as he was running for his life. They had evidence! Sirius Black was overcome with the various emotions running through him. Fear and relief were still prevalent of course, he had just experienced a new near death experience. But embarrassment of his reaction to being caught in a prank, and it being recorded none the less, was rising quickly and had already surpassed anger with his friends. But the strongest emotion Sirius felt was pride. It was all very overwhelming and confusing! Simple men like he were not meant to feel so many conflicting emotions all at once! Looking up at the "beast" that had nearly ended his life he was left with only one option - Sirius Black fainted.

"He fainted!"

"Oh that's one for the books!"

"Do you think we went too far, Dad?"

"Oh god no, Harry, this might just become my favorite story yet. I can see it now: The night Sirius black pissed himself and fainted."

"Prongs that wasn't all that uncommon back in Hogwarts; he used to piss himself and pass out every other time the house won a quidditch match."

"Moony that doesn't count! Those were all butterbeer and fire whisky induced fits of delusion that never happened."

"All the photo evidence to the contrary, Prongs."

"Dad do you think we should wake him up? He does still smell like pee."

"Go ahead and get off him unless you happen to enjoy that smell and I'll wake him up."

Grumbling to himself Harry did as his father suggested and moved across the room and turned to see his father flicking his wand into the air and conjuring a stream of water.

"Damn it James can't you make that water warmer when you make it?" Sirius sputtered out between coughs.

"I could but I won't so I guess you'll just have to deal with the shrinkage. Dry yourself off Padfoot we have something important to discuss."

"And what pray tell is that Prongs."

"The naming of my son's animal form of course."

"Bloody hell. Here I was hoping that was a dream. Did I actually piss myself?"

"Yes you did Padfoot."

"Damn. And I know you all got pictures of it this time. Don't think I have anything left to blackmail those pictures away from you either. Not that I'd take that kind of thing away from young Harry. Hmm... I guess this means we can't exactly call him Pronglet, cub, or pup anymore."

Remus speaking for the first time since Sirius fainted voiced his thoughts on the matter. "No, I do believe that young Harry has earned the right to his own name now."

"Too right on that, Mr. Moony. Mr. Padfoot believes we should get this show on the road before the sun sets and the moon starts to rise; will our newest member be coming with us tonight?"

"His mother is going to kill me for keeping him out all night but yes Harry will be there with us."

"Come let us see this beautiful beast in all its glory again Harry so that we can debate on your new name."

Harry complied with the request of his uncle and sat there in the middle of the living room while they discussed his form. The truth was none of them knew what exactly Harry was. They had run into a similar problem with Sirius and the results were similar. To the three of them Sirius had been a big dog; Harry was a very large hunting cat. And they were each black. Intelligent the three of them were- zoologists they were not. In the end many names were tossed around. Nightfang, Pantera, Silentclaw, and a few others were tossed around before Remus off handedly tossed out Shadowstalker. It was James who caught the lifting of Harry's head and then the sudden flattening of the boys ears but the name was chosen in James mind.

"Shadow." Again Harry's head came up and locked eyes with his father. "Gentlemen I do believe we have a winner."

"Shadow?" both of the two dogs spoke at once.

"Shadow." the stag replied.

Getting a nod from each, the three of them spoke as one. " We the Marauders would like to welcome Mr. Shadow into our brotherhood of pranksters, troublemakers, and chosen family. Do you, Mr. Shadow, accept our friendship, brotherhood, love, and kinship freely and on good faith?" The triumphant and jubilant roar from Shadow was the response. James continued alone. "Good but you get to tell your mother." Shadow dropped to the ground whimpering and covered his eyes with his paw. "Smart boy. Not gonna save you. But I'd be a fool if I didn't agree with you.


	6. Chapter 6:The Morning After

A/N: I'd like to say thank you to all of those who have read, reviewed, added my story to their favorites, or are following it with their alerts. I'm trying to respond to each review; even if to do nothing more than say thank you. Suggestions and criticism are welcome and I hope you enjoy the following chapter.

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There was a very critical reason James had opted not to inform Lily before officially inducting Harry into the Marauders. The fact that he would now be staring down Hurricane Lily hadn't occurred to him at the time. Oh he'd made Harry tell her but Hurricane Lily must have had a bullshit detector because she rounded on James without a second thought. "Lils had I called you over here before Sirius I know your inquisitive nature would've stopped us from doing anything until Harry here had answered every fathomable question you could come up with. In case you've forgotten it's a full moon tonight and it's going to be rising in less than an hour."

"James you're not understanding the point! Our son manages an extremely difficult bit of magic and instead of calling me and letting me know the first thought in your mind was how to prank his god-father! And don't think you're off the hook young man!" the fiery redhead finally voiced rounding on Harry in the guise of Shadow.

"I get it Lils. I really do. Next time Harry proves he's a prodigy I'll call you first and everyone else next. But what you're not getting is Harry did this for Remus. He wants to be there for Remus, Lils; I know you think he's too young to be out all night and I know he'll be exhausted tomorrow but he has earned the right to be here. I won't deny him this. Not when he worked just as hard, if not harder, than I did to earn my place with Remus during the full moon."

"But he's so young James! He's just a boy."

"Lily your little boy is a seven hundred pound feline that is larger than any of us. I highly doubt there is anything we could get into that is in anyway, shape, or form dangerous to him. Merlin, Lily look at him! He's huge!"

"Fine... He can go out with the boys. But so help me god, James, if that boy starts slacking on his homework or chores I will invent new hexes to try out on your bits! And you, young man, will be spending the morning with me going over everything you didn't think was important during your 'project.'"

Watching Remus change became one of Harry's worst memories and that wasn't going to change for many years. Oddly enough there wasn't any fear associated with Remus transforming; sadness certainly but not fear. It was the pain and fear in Remus' eyes that solidified it for Harry and in an instant Shadow was at the werewolf's side. The night was spent playing tag, hide and sneak, and general rough housing between the four. Prongs had the greatest speed of the four which generally made him the hardest to catch in an open field. Padfoot had the greatest stamina and the most experiences using his enhanced senses which made him the hardest to sneak up on and the hardest to lose in a chase. Moony had the unfortunate case of having the least control but it was off set with his improved strength and durability. Shadow's strengths laid in his mass (which allowed him the greatest overall power), unparalleled balance and grace, agility that matched or exceeded that of Prongs, stealth, and the greatest bond with his inner animal. It was the first time that Harry reflected that it was good to be an apex predator, but it wasn't going to be the last time the young boy thought that.

Morning came far too soon for the newest and youngest of the marauders. Tired, sore, and sleepy Harry walked through the fireplace to his home and while for the slightest moment he was off balance he didn't fall on his face like he normally did. And there in the kitchen looking at the fireplace, wearing a sadistic grin, sat his mother. "Good morning, honey!" called the sickly sweet voice that wasn't honestly sweet at all. Oh sure she sounded nice and pleasant but this was all just a part of Harry's punishment for being out all night. Prongs had already happily handed his son over to his wife while he headed for the office for the last day of the week. Bastard would probably be sleeping at his desk within the hour.

"Morning, Mom." Exhaustion was evident in Harry's voice. But he'd honor his agreement; he'd certainly not risk not being there with Moony now that he had the ability to.

"So Harry do you know what kind of animal you are? I did a little research and I think I figured it out."

"How much research did it take to figure out I was a cat?" He'd keep his end of the deal and answer her questions but if she was going to be silly he'd show her he had inherited her sharp tongue along with her temper.

"Well it's certainly true that you are a cat but I was wondering if you knew what breed you were."

"All I know is the cat is big, black, and has amazing senses."

"Harry dear only two predator cats come in the melanistic coloring you showed: A jaguar or a leopard. So which do you think you are?"

"I'm not sure is there a big difference in them? I mean they're both spotted and like to eat meat right?"

"Their size, temperament, coloration, body structure, and muscle structure are all different. The jaguar is the larger of the two if that helps."

"Jaguar it is than." Harry understood that his feline form was large enough to intimidate Moony after he had transformed; he honestly didn't want to consider that there were mundane cats larger then he already was.

"Quite wrong honey; you see a jaguar doesn't have slightly darker stripes mixed into his coat or grow to be seven hundred pounds."

"But mom you just said it could only be one of the two. How can it be neither?"

"Congratulations, son. You, just like your godfather, are a mutt. Well, to be more exact you're a hybrid of two breeds. It's not exactly common but obviously it happens from time to time. If I had to guess you're either a Jager or a Tiguar; a cross between a tiger and a jaguar as it were. From what I saw last night you take predominately after the jaguar side in structure and the tiger in size."

"So what exactly does that mean?

"Truthfully it doesn't mean much. There are larger cats out there; particularly if you consider the hybrids but if the best traits of the Jaguar run true than I doubt any of them are a threat to you. The Jaguar of central and south America is by and large considered pound for pound the strongest cat in the world. It's one of the reasons they don't grow as large as their African counter parts. The only real issue I see you having is that if you find that you like to climb trees some branches won't be able to support your weight."

"Oh..." Harry tried to control his rising blush but Lily was far to observant for that.

"So tell me how many trees did you destroy trying to climb them?

"Only four or five."

"Well I guess your animal instincts aren't overriding your common sense when you transform. After all you only tried the same thing with the same results four or five times. I honestly expected your answer to be in the double digits."

"I did not! I'll have you know that so long as I stay near the trunk, and the trees are older, the branches are not prone to breaking under the weight. It was only leaping from branch to branch that got me in trouble a few times last night."

"I stand corrected. Now tell me how you managed to become an animagus." Ah yes, the heart of the matter for what Lily wanted to know.

"Really it was all meditation based, Mom. I'd spend a couple hours a night looking for my animal spirit until I was able to find it last year."

"It took you almost two years just to find your animal form?" That was highly unusual. James hadn't needed more than a year and most people took the potion to instantly reveal their inner animal.

"I don't know. I found something a lot of the time but I couldn't make it out for months and months. I thought it getting clearer just meant that I was making progress but now I'm not so sure."

"Why do you say that Harry?"

"Well what if the reason it took me so long to find shadow was because it was still changing?"

"It's possible but impossible to test for." It was an interesting theory none the less; if it was true it suggested that becoming an animagus required either a certain age or a certain amount of maturity- magical or otherwise. "Either way I think it'd be best if I run some diagnostic charms on you to see if there are any major changes."

"Mom do you really think that's necessary?"

"Harry I've already seen at least one major change to you. For the first time since I gave birth to you you're not on your face after coming out of the floo. And didn't you mention your senses being more sensitive? I'd like to see if there are any other changes we need to be aware of." Her wand flicked out and flourished about as she silently released a series of charms.

With a scowl Lily repeated the charms again. She'd been doing this for the last half hour almost non stop and the results were … perplexing. The things she had expected were there; a better sense of smell and hearing along with better eyesight, mainly in alacrity and low light levels. Those things weren't unusual; maybe one in five people reported something along those lines. Even the increased muscle density, heightened reflexes, and improved sense of balance was explainable under the same theory; even if it was a bit of a stretch. No, what was baffling Lily was the charms that were suggesting her son was starting puberty and aging faster then he ought to be. His hormone levels were astronomical and his cellular growth rates were three fold higher then what would be considered normal. She'd ran the tests enough; they weren't going to change and she clearly hadn't made a mistake.

Harry sat in silence watching his mother work; he'd seen that look on her face before. It normally ended with his father sleeping on the couch. But his dad was at work and the only one at home who could've possibly earned her ire was looking at him from the reflection of the window above the sink. Whatever the charms were telling her was making her growl and glare at him like he'd set the house on fire.

"Would you like the good news or the bad news?"

"Do I get a choice?"

"No not really I just thought you'd enjoy the illusion that you had a choice. On the plus side all the benefits of the transformation came out true. All of your senses are a bit altered for lack of a better word; your eyesight, hearing, and sense of smell are the most improved. I'd say their roughly on par or just a tad weaker then Remus's normal senses. You're also about twenty five percent stronger then you were before the change, your reflexes are about fifteen percent faster then before, and your sense of balance has improved dramatically."

"Those are all good things aren't they?"

"Yes they are but now you get to hear what your stupid project cost you."

"Mum why are you trying to sound all ominous?"

"Congratulations son. You've started puberty. And not just a normal puberty I'd wager your going to experience a rapid and vicious puberty where you get all your teen years condensed over the next three of four years. "

"Puberty?"

"That's right my little boys becoming a man. And this means you and your father get to have the birds and the bees talk this weekend."

"Mum are you sure that's needed?"

"No you're quite right; I'll be supervising him to make sure he doesn't bring in your godfather or fill your head with stupid ideas about girls. OH and to make sure he covers the importance stuff correctly."

It was a pale faced Harry who sat in the kitchen awaiting his father's return from work. Compared to what he was currently dreading he was quite honestly considering taking Rose up on her offer to help him find a collar for his "big kitty-cat" as the six year old girl referred to Shadow. He had honestly enjoyed rough housing with his little sister even if he did have to treat her like she was made of glass. He hadn't expected to enjoy playing pony for a six year old girl but the delight in her smile had silenced any hesitation.

Hell he'd even take a pink collar with rhinestones if it got him out of this conversation with his dad. And with all the tact and consideration his father possessed in his body, which is to say none at all, he asked his first question of what would be a very long night. "Who died?"

"Your son several times today of embarrassment. I think by the end of the night he might actually have a record."

"Why's that Lils?"

"Because he knows you and him are going to have the talk tonight and I've been giving him hell all day."

"What talk are me and Harry having tonight?" James was quite certain what conversation his wife was referring to. It was a very serious conversation and warranted using Harry's real name. He just didn't believe his wife was saying he should have that talk with their ten year old son. When he'd had that talk with his father he'd been going into his fifth year at Hogwarts and a bottle of fire whiskey had been involved. Although that might have been why he was ruddy clueless for the first three years he had been at Hogwarts.

"The sex and puberty talk James."

"Lily why would I be having that talk with a Harry tonight? Does he have questions?"

"I HAVE NO QUESTIONS! GREAT TALK DAD WE SHOULD DO THIS AGAIN SOME TIME NEXT CENTURY." It was only the quick petrification spell from Lily that stopped the bolting boy from reaching the door.

"You're not getting out of this that easy, Harry. James, the reason you are going to have this talk with Harry is because by becoming an animagus he jump-started his body into an early puberty. By the time he comes back from Hogwarts next summer his body will be closer to thirteen than twelve. Which means you need to do your job and let him know what he can expect. Oh, and I think it'd be good idea to teach him some basic occlumency. Between puberty, enhanced senses, and animal instincts Harry's mind is going to be overworked and he will need the ability to maintain control of his self to a higher degree."

James walked over to the shelf where he kept his finest stash of fire whiskey and despite the glare from his wife he poured himself and his son a glass. "Can I at least invite Sirius over? He'd have a lot to add to this conversation."

"James Potter you are not letting that man-whore discuss anything related to sex with my son. Is that clear?"

"Crystal, darling." By the end of the night several things were certain... The most memorable being that it'd be months before Harry looked at a banana the same way again.

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A/N: I've had a few people ask about Harry's animagus form. Not as a part of it's description but as to why it was chosen. Harry's form was chosen based on the mythology, symbolism, and beliefs that are found surrounding those animals. My interpretation of the animagus form has always been that it is the ability to manifest one's inner animal or spirit animal in a physical manner. I've drawn mainly from Central America and Asian/Chinese cultures although there are a few other aspects taken into account. To that end the Animagus form is not dependent or chosen based on the actual physical traits or personality types of the animals in question but of what traits are associated with them.

Below are some, not all, of the traits that are associated with each animal. Part of the reason I've brought in three separate animals is to

Tiger: Enthusiastic, courageous, ambitious, leadership, confidence, charismatic, Power, Energy, Royalty, Protection, Generosity, Illumination, Unpredictability.

Jaguar: confidence, leadership, power, ferocity, and valor, embodiment of aggressiveness, represents the power to face one's fears, or to confront one's enemies.

Panther: Swiftness, Cunning, Strength, Perseverance, Boldness, Beauty, Gaining Confidence, symbol of courage, valor and power.

Now I'm not going to say Harry is going to manifest every one of these traits or that he is going to personify these traits or that he will even display all of these traits. These were the animals that not only blend together well physically but also symbolically as well as in mythology. Even looking back at the cannon story a number of these traits stand out when looking at Harry's character.


	7. Chapter 7: Shopping and Mirrors

It had been four months since Harry's initiation into the marauders and the following "talk" that happened the next day. In the past months very little had changed. During the day he studied his mundane subjects with Remus at Lily's persistent request; at night he enjoyed the time with his family. Playing pony with Rose,(just as Padfoot and Prongs had done with him at that age), flying with his dad and uncle Sirius on their brooms, discussing books with his mom, or watching the TV as a family. It didn't really matter to Harry what he was doing; his family was close and he enjoyed the time he spent with them.

Once a week either Lily or James would help him learn and improve his occlumency. Not so that Harry would be able to block or shield his mind from others but so that he'd have better control of himself. Lily was concerned with Harry's rushed puberty and near animal senses he'd be overly tempted while away from home at Hogwarts. She hadn't discussed the possibility with Harry or James yet but there was more than a slight chance that Harry could detect pheromones and would respond to it on a subconscious level. She told herself of course that any benefits to Harry's academics was purely a happy coincidence of Harry having better control of his emotions and instincts. For James it was more simplistic It kept his wife happy. The fact that Harry was going to have more time to make the slimy Slytherin's life even more unbearable was just an added benefit. Men can be incredibly simple like that.

For Harry occlumency was a double edged sword. He could be more in control of his temper but by the same token he was expected to be less impulsive. He could remember his studies and books easier but he couldn't use the excuse that he forgot to do a chore anymore. He could read a favorite book of his in half the time but afterward he felt no desire to read the book at all anymore; instead he could simply recall his favorite parts in a fraction of the time it would take to read them. The same was true of any movies or TV shows he had previously enjoyed. If before reruns were annoying now they were downright torture.

But Harry had more important things on his mind; today he was turning eleven and would finally be allowed to get his wand! And His mom had told him he'd even be allowed to get an owl so he'd be able to write home! Oh and they'd be getting all the other stuff he needed for school but those all seemed like such minor things next to his wand and an owl. Seriously Harry had been trying to snag either one of his parents wands since he was seven and had never once succeeded.

Walking into Diagon alley Harry's parents opted to split up; Lily would head for Flourish and Blotts and the apothecary to pick up Harry's needed supplies while James and Harry went and got the young man fitted for robes. From there they'd head for Ollivander's to get him fitted for his wand.

Much of the day passed in a blur of excitement for the young man turning eleven. The fitting for the clothes had been uneventful until an arrogant blond entered the store and started running his mouth as Harry and James were leaving. Lily had already finished all the required shopping and had picked up harry a five compartment trunk she insisted that not even the basic charms be applied to it and when Harry asked her why she polity informed him that he'd be doing them himself using his preferred skills. The money wasn't an issue but James and Lily had always made it a point for Harry to understand the value of hard work and to take pride in what he'd accomplished on his own. As soon as Harry walked into the owl emporium a beautiful snowy owl flew down from rafters to sit on his shoulder. Harry to engrossed in starring into the bird's exquisite amber eyes never noticed the faint golden glow that surrounded the two or his parents telling the owner that they'd take her.

The most memorable moment of Harry's day was the acquisition of his wand. The moment he flourished it crimson flames and golden shimmering sparkles of light erupted from it's tip while the store was encased with the song of a phoenix . An eleven inch Holly wood wand with a phoenix feather as it's core. Mr. Ollivander had explained to him the strengths and meanings of his wand. A phoenix represented the elements of air and fire along with the cycle of life, healing, and change. Holly wood was known as a wood of protection, healing, and of repelling evil. The old wand-maker went on to suggest that Harry's wand would have succeed the most at fighting darkness, protecting loved ones, and healing those who were pure rather than any particular field of magic. The old man stated that this particular wand was a very rare type of wand that would depend more on intention and emotion than actual mechanics of a spell; it would make learning any particular spell harder at first but easier to master later on. None of that had really sunk in for Harry; the constant feeling of bliss and thrum and hum of the song from his wand whenever he touched it had him far too distracted to think far enough into the future to think about mastering any spell.

The first week of August was dedicated to preparing his trunk with runes for the charms he felt were necessary. Security runes, feather weight runes, and various protection runes were the order of the day for the oak box. The weeks following that Harry went through one chapter per book and made notes while discussing the material with Remus, his mother, and his father. He'd already read most of his parents journals but their thoughts over the years might offer greater insight to a spell or assignment and he opted to include them in his packing. Finally the last week of august rolled around and the adult males in life decided that Harry needed some last minute advice and a gift before they wouldn't see the boy for several months.

"Mr. Prongs would like to remind Mr. Padfoot that his wife threatened to neuter a black dog if he turned Mr. Shadow into a man whore like his god-father."

"Mr. Moony would like to inform Mr. Shadow that while several pieces of this advice will be valid discretion is sometimes the better part of valor.

"Mr. Padfoot is invoking the marauders codes and oaths in the belief and hope this conversation will never make it back to the red headed tempest." Getting nods from his two friends he turned to Harry the playful tone and look gone from his eyes.

"Now Harry first things first we have a gift for you. Your Mum doesn't know about this yet and she won't until after you get to Hogwarts." With that he handed the young man a black leather tri-fold wallet. "Go ahead and open it up Harry." Doing as he was told he found that inside the wallet were three small pocket mirrors that were trimmed in white gold. "We each have a wallet just like that one Harry; the animals on the trim let you know who's mirror that one is paired with. Touch the mirror and say the name of the Marauder you want to talk to and if we're anywhere in England we will be able to talk to you in a moments notice. We spent all last week testing the range and getting the delay down so the conversation is as natural as if you're in the same room as the person on the other side. The old mirror your dad and I used to use during detention is being put in a picture frame in the living room and it's partner is going with you so you will be able to talk to your Mum and Rose just on the off chance you get a little homesick or just want to talk."

"Now for your second gift of the night; advice on girls." Sirius was baffled on how Harry managed to blush and pale at the same time but pressed on without a moments delay. " I know you've already had the biological talk with Lily and James so unless you have questions we'll skip that part. What I want to talk about is interacting with the fairer sex. You're my godson and if you're a flop with the ladies I'll never be able to live it down."

With that Sirius, with assistance from James and Remus, began explaining the importance of how to talk to a girl, how to treat them, and most importantly what not to do. The most important rule they would pass on to young Harry on the last of his nights out with the boys before going to Hogwarts was simple. Never expect or attempt to truly understand any girl; to attempt to such a travesty would bring about divine judgment from heaven itself.

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A/N: I felt that this chapter needed just a little more to it after I added the chapter that follows it. I won't try and make any excuses but for whatever reason the confrontation between Severus and Lily was pounding away inside my head and demanding to be written. Nor will I make any excuses for spelling errors and the like. I make mistakes and I'm well aware of them. My wonderful girlfriend is slowly reading what I'm publishing and making the grammar corrections where they're needed. My only defense is, and I pray it to be my saving grace, is that I am writing and providing updates as quickly as I can. For those of you who are having a hard time getting past my errors in writing I'd suggest waiting two or three days after I had a chapter for my delightful girlfriend to straighten out the ugliness. Yes I'm kissing up to her and no I am not ashamed. That being said I'd like to once again thank everyone who has read, reviewed, and follows the story; I do very much appreciate the responses, suggestions, and questions. The thing I am most concerned about is people enjoying the story. If you feel like my content is disappointing I'd like to hear why in hopes that I could make the story better. On with the story.

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Approaching platform nine and three quarters Harry was adamant that he'd do his best to make his family proud of him. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to reconcile his mother's academic expectations with the marauders past glory but Harry was certain he'd enjoy the challenge. Looking at the large magical steam engine Harry was forced to let out a low whistle in admiration. It really required a touch of magical genius, and a tad bit arrogance in a pureblood sort of way, to be able to hide all of this in the middle of London's busiest rail terminal.

It didn't take long before Harry had his luggage stowed and was ready to board the train. Kneeling down next to Rose he gave her a quick hug before pulling back to look at her. "I'm going to miss you, Little Flower. I want you to be good for Mum and dad while I'm gone, ok?"

"Do you really have to go?"

"Yes, Little Flower, I have to go to Hogwarts so I can learn magic. In a few years me and you will go to school together though, ok?"

"But who's going to be there to chase the monsters away and play pony with me?"

"Dad, Mum, Uncle Remus, and Uncle Sirius will be there, Little Flower, and who do you think taught me how to chase away monsters and play pony?"

"They did?"

"Yeah, they did."

"But what if Uncle Sirius tries to pick on me again?"

"Just remind him that Mr. Shadow has plenty of pictures of the last time he tried to play a prank on you, ok?" It was the audible and visual gulp of the three marauders that once again caused Lily's curiosity to peak. One of these days she'd have to get them drunk enough to tell her what the hell Harry did to them. Well, not Remus.. Getting and keeping the werewolf drunk was too damn expensive with his metabolism.

"You promise you'll come back?"

"I promise you'll see me before you know it and that I'll be home for Christmas. Now I want you to study hard and be a good Little Flower, ok?" Getting a nod in response he hugged her again and whispered that he loved her and he'd miss her.

Standing up he was engulfed in a double bone crushing man hug from his two adopted uncles. It was Remus who spoke first. "I'm going to miss you, cub."

"You haven't called me that in months, Moony."

"You're always going to be a cub to us, Shadow, no matter how old or big you get. You're going to remember all the things I taught you?"

"Of course I will Moony. Teach Rose well. I'm sure I will need a partner in crime once she gets to Hogwarts."

"And will you remember everything that I've told you, pup?"

"Not even a memory charm will get rid of that conversation.. Trust me Padfoot, I tried."

"You say that now but in a year or two you will be fighting the girls off with a stick."

"And if I end up with your reputation I'll be sleeping at your house on the couch."

"That's why the first piece of advice was the most important."

"The first piece of advice dear old Sirius?" Lily's not so innocent voice questioned.

"Not to let you find out of course my dear fair maiden." Ignoring the scowl from said fair maiden Sirius pressed on. "Now Harry I want you to do your best in everything you do, make the snakes lives' a living hell, and most importantly stay true to who you are."

"Don't worry, Padfoot, I'll make you proud."

"You already have made me very proud of you, Harry."

"Thank you, Sirius, Remus, for everything." Hugging each of the two men again Harry was fighting back tears knowing that saying goodbye was only going to get harder. Lily was next.

"You've got everything?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Remember to take your vitamin potions."

"Yes, Mum."

"Don't cause too much trouble, do your homework, and remember to be respectful."

"Yes, Mum." The idea of causing too much trouble is a relative concept to a marauder. He could honestly always say he caused just enough trouble for it to be noticed.

"You'll write won't you, Harry?"

"Of course I will, Mum, It just wouldn't do for poor Hedwig to get fat because I couldn't be bothered to write a few words here and there. Besides, Mum, you'll be seeing me before you know it." Harry was referring to the mirrors she didn't know he had yet. He honestly didn't plan to see her in person until the holidays. Funny how things work out like that.

"Remember we love you, Harry, and if you need anything don't hesitate to write." She gripped her oldest child in her arms and dealt with one of the worst things every mother deals with: letting a child out of the nest for the first time. She could only pray that this would get easier in time. Off in the distance she could see the Weasley matriarch letting her children onto the train. While Molly was hugging them just as fiercely as Lily was hugging Harry the other woman didn't seem quite so pained about it. If nothing else that gave her hope this would get easier.

James placed his arms on his son's shoulders and looked into his eyes. "Harry, all the advice that needs to be given has been so I'll say this instead. You've always been a good boy Harry. You are a wonderful young man, and I know in my heart you will be a wonderful man when you're done growing up. I have been and will always be proud of you and I'd like you to know that my greatest accomplishment will always be being a father to two wonderful children. You've brought me more joy than I ever thought possible and no matter what I will always be proud to be your father. I love you, son." James hugged his son for the last time until he would see him at Christmas.

"I love you, Dad." Harry had tried to hold back the tears but one or two slipped out past his guard. Harry turned to board the train and just as he was entering the door he turned and waved to his family once again. Hearing the whistle blow, Harry entered the train and looked for a compartment with somebody he knew. Being amongst friends made him feel better and sitting alone wasn't what he needed at this moment in time.

Four cabins in he found Neville sitting with a girl he didn't recognize. Knocking on the door he grinned at the boy inside. Opening the door Harry was hit with the smell he'd come to associate with Neville, a faint smell of a green house and fertilizer, and a combination of vanilla and books he assumed was coming from the girl. For an inexplicable reason there was a faint purring heard in the back of Harry's head. "Hey Nev, mind introducing me to your friend?"

"Harry this is Hermione Granger. Hermione this is one of my closest friends, Harry Potter."

"Pleased to meet you Hermione. Any friend of Neville's is a friend of mine."

"Pleasure, Harry. We were just talking about the differences between the two worlds."

"Are you a first generation witch?"

"What gave it away?"

"You had a bit of a confused look on your face before I knocked on the door. Neville's a pure blood who's never been in the mundane world. He could give you a great description of the wizarding world. His grandmother is a staunch traditionalist and I doubt there are few who could give you a better overview of the wizarding world's traditions. However, no offense Nev, I doubt he could navigate a grocery store, turn on a TV, or make a phone call."

"And you could?"

"My Mum's a first generation witch and I grew up in-between the two worlds. My home is actually a regular home that has been improved with magic. I grew up taking a home school program for the sciences, mathematics, social studies, and language arts."

"So you didn't grow up practicing magic or attend a primary school to prepare you for Hogwarts?"

Neville laughed at the look on Harry's face as the green-eyed boy suppressed a scowl. "Harry's parents both work for the Ministry and they wouldn't let him anywhere near their wands."

Harry continued from where Neville left off. "Hermione, most kids raised in the magical world are either home schooled or taught by private tutors. Most of the kids are taught mostly about magical and family history, traditions, or the beliefs their families hold. Almost nobody is taught anything about the mundane world, critical thinking, or the natural sciences. There are a few families that start their children out using magic at a young age but most of those families are darker and more inbred than anything else."

What followed for the next ten minutes was a brief description of the varying beliefs of the wizarding world on the status of blood. The three of them turned to the door as it opened to reveal a tall lanky red headed boy who despite his height seemed about their age. "Do you mind if I join you guys? I'd rather not sit alone. Name's Ron. Ron Weasley." After introductions were exchanged the four attempted to trade stories. Being smarter and more educated than the two pure bloods, Ron and Neville were left waiting for Harry to translate her stories for them while their own conversations seemed to resolve around quidditch, a card game, or food. Harry, on the other hand, seemed to able to float between the two separate conversations and served as the bridge for the two sides.

Halfway to Hogwarts they were joined by two more girls and Hermione found herself hoping they were like Harry. She was sorely disappointed when not only were they purebloods but they were _girly_ purebloods who were trying to talk about hair and beauty charms. Harry's attention divided between the five people in the car left Hermione feeling slightly stranded in the middle of a sea without a life vest. Other than Ron each of them was nice enough, at least so far, but other than Harry she was having difficulty relating in any significant manner.

Entering the great hall, Harry was, to an extent, concerned. Not afraid mind you; it wouldn't do for him to be afraid. He did want to be in Gryffindor, after all. Concerned was acceptable. Depending on what the hat found in his head he could feasibly see himself being sorted into any of the houses. The loyalty and devotion to his family along with the amount of effort he'd taken in acquiring his animagus form could easily land him with the badgers. Ravenclaw would be a stretch, not for lack of intelligence mind you, but simply because he lacked the thirst and drive of knowledge for knowledge's sake.

No, his greatest fear….. Scratch that ….. Concern was that he'd be sorted into the house of the snakes. And it was possible if the sorting hat looked at things under a certain light. He had taken on the marauders for several years in prank contests. That'd be considered both ambitious and brave. Or fool hardy depending on who you asked. Each of his pranks required cunning to pull off and the fact that he hadn't the training or even a wand had only been a minor concern of his. Harry knew he had lofty goals but he was hoping the sorting hat would find that his courage and honor were greater traits than anything else.

Having listened to most of the names come and go through the list he'd seen Hermione and Neville join the lions, Hannah and Susan head for the badgers, several spawns of "imperiused" deatheaters join the snakes, and a few people who he didn't know join the house of the wise.

"Potter, Harry." There. Professor McGonagall had finally called his name and he'd get to find out where he was going.

"_Interesting, very interesting. Truly based just off of a surface read I'd say you'd belong to any one of the houses. I'll have to examine your memories to see your true self." _Harry watched inside his head as image of memory after memory flowed across his eyes. _"Ravenclaw is certainly out; anyone willing to risk your mother's wrath for a simple laugh is far too idiotic and childish for that house. Hufflepuff is a viable option but your loyalty is to people not an organization which would be unusual at best. While you yourself bare no ill will for Slytherin you would feel like you're betraying that which you treasure most by being there, despite that you could succeed wonderfully there if you had ambition for ambitions sake. However your honor and valor stand out above anything else. Anyone willing to place a dung bomb in Lily Evan's knickers drawer in an attempt to get James Potter in trouble doesn't understand the meaning of the word fear. "_

While the great hall waited patiently for the sorting hat to choose where to send Potter two teachers were having chills run down their spines. McGonagall was terrified of what a Harry Potter who had been influenced by the marauders would be capable of. The fear that he'd link up with the twins of terror left her hoping against hope that Harry Potter would defy the odds and go anywhere other than Gryffindor. While she'd love to teach James and Lily's son she wasn't prepared for another seven years of the chaos those boys had caused. For Snape it was the sudden awakening that the hat could place Harry anywhere other than the house of the brave. If he had to be Potter's head of house he'd quit and take his chances with the death eaters. With a resounding cry the sorting hat alleviated one teacher's fears and confirmed another's. Minerva was left hoping that Harry would take after his mother.


	8. Chapter 8: First Day at Hogwarts

A/N: I'd like to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, or is following the story so far. The only consistent complaint is the problems they foresee with Harry's hastened puberty. Perhaps I misrepresented what I intended and when I get a chance I'll look at it again. I never intended for Harry to be or act sixteen in his first year or three years at Hogwarts. My intention has always been or Harry to start growing earlier and faster so that physically he'd level off some time around his fourth year. I'd also like to remind those who have concerns that Hermione is nearly a year older and girls normally start and finish maturing before their male counterparts. I'd also like to emphasize that while Harry might physically mature faster that will not effect how quickly he grows mentally. The first few years will be a roller coaster for Harry; the hormones in his system will effect his judgment, he will be more aggressive, more impulsive, and he will take notice of girls earlier than he did in canon (although he will fight it at first). I don't ever picture the gap between Hermione and Harry growing to drastic proportions; they will start maturing within a few months of each other and will ideally finish within a year of each other. Standard Disclaimer applies: I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

_Dear family,_

_ The family honor and tradition has once again been upheld; once again a Potter prankster resides in Gryffindor tower. Not that there was ever any doubt of course; if being raised by the marauders and my dear beautiful red headed mother has accomplished nothing else it has indeed made me fearless. The trip aboard the Hogwarts Express was pleasant despite a brief encounter with a little dragon of bad faith and its pet trolls. I sat and caught up with Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott, and Neville before being joined by the youngest Weasley boy. I'd inform you of his name but based on the way he was eating I'm not entirely certain if he was human or not. I also meet a young muggle born witch by the name of Hermione Granger who had already committed every textbook and Hogwarts: A History to memory. She oddly reminds me of mum; she's a brunette so hopefully I will survive my Hogwarts career with all my limbs intact. Sirius always said Dad was quite lucky in that regard and I'd rather not tempt fate twice. I know I've read about Hogwarts in both of your journals but words don't even begin to prepare somebody for seeing the castle for the first time coming across the lake. I miss you all and even though we have the mirrors I felt Hedwig might like exercise. _

_All my love,_

_ Harry._

Harry was sitting across from Neville finishing his letter and drinking his nutrient potion that he had with every meal when Ron sat down next to Neville and began building a small tower out of food on his plate which had appeared in front of him. Harry was silently thankful he had already ate; the battle of Ron Weasley's plate was a gruesome sight and he had no inclination to eat after witnessing parts of it. The agenda for the day began with Harry acquiring the schedule only to learn that the class he had the least desire to go to would be the start of every Monday. Potions. Twice. First thing in the morning. Every Monday and Wednesday. He didn't even hate Professor Snivellus yet and he was already dreading his class. Although if the rumors in the dorms were anything to go by he'd soon hate the man almost as much as he loathed the subject. It was with a great deal of reluctance that the three boys made their way down to the dungeon for their first lesson with the resident potion master.

Harry took his seat next to Gryffindor's newest bookworm and silently cursed his friend and the ginger tagalong. Her hair smelled faintly of vanilla and the scent of books and parchment drifted around her lightly; Shadow purred happily at the nearness of the girl despite Harry's disdain. Call it post traumatic stress disorder but Harry Potter had already sworn to himself that he would not be using any of Sirius's advice on women anytime in the near future.

Snape began his musings on the great art that potions represented while dismissing "silly wand waving" and "stupid incantations" only to see Harry roll his eyes at the connotations that he could brew death itself. "Mr. Potter. If it isn't the son of my old friend, the arrogant swine that calls itself James Potter. Tell me what will I get if I add powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"I don't know, sir. Potions were never really my forte."

"I'd think not; with your father's blood it's a wonder you can even read. Tell me where would you find a bezoar?"

"Well, sir, my mum keeps them in the bathroom behind the mirror and in the kitchen in the medical bag so that's where I'd look for one. But she also said they generally came from the stomach of a goat."

"It looks like you're at least smart enough to listen to those who are smarter then you. That's not saying much, mind you; any mutt is capable of the same when motivated by a good beating. Tell me, Potter, what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolf's bane?"

"I'm not sure, sir."

"They are the same. You strike me as the same as your father; an ignorant and arrogant child."

"And it would appear as though my father's journal had a far better description of you than my mother's."

"And what did your father have to about me, pray tell, Mr. Potter." This was an opportunity Snape could not allow to pass without attempting to discover something. He hadn't been able to speak to Lily since before the Dark Lord's fall. If there was a chance the boy had read anything his mother had written from when they were at Hogwarts together than he'd gladly accept any price that had to be paid.

"He said you were a bigoted arrogant git who thought the world owed him something he had never earned." Of course James Potter would have written something like that. It was of no concern for the potions master.

"Oh is that what he said Mr. Potter?"

"Well his exact words were that you were, 'a deatheater in training that needs to be put down like a rabid dog,' I just thought you'd like to know what he thought of deatheaters in general." Now that statement in contrast hurt; not the words themselves but the concept that inside of his own mind he had to admit that James Potter had been right about anything at all. It was heresy of the highest caliber.

"And pray tell; what did your mother have to say, Mr. Potter, in her journals."

"In her journal from third year she wrote that you were a nice young man with a rough exterior who was horribly misunderstood. But she also had to go back and correct herself in her seventh year journal. She was quite distraught about that by the way. You're one of the few things she has ever admitted to be wrong about and it truly vexed her that she had believed you to be a good decent human being. The last thing she ever wrote about you is that she was ashamed to have ever called herself your friend."

And there it was. There was no hint of deception; he could see the memory clearly in the boys mind. That was why his owls had never returned with a reply from her. Why all of his letters, messages, and missives went unanswered. His precious Lily Evans, for she would never be a Potter in his mind, hated him. In some ways he would have preferred the Potter brat lie to him, as it was it was quite possible that Harry was crueler in that single moment than James had been in seven years. James had humiliated him and belittled him at every turn but James had never been able to hurt him emotionally. With a few simple words Harry Potter, son of his hated enemy and of the women he had loved since he was thirteen, tore out his heart using nothing more than the truth. "Get out. Now. EVERYONE GET OUT NOW." Everyone scuttled out of the class room without a moment's hesitation letting the door shut moments after hearing glass shatter.

"Harry Potter what were you thinking!" Hermione had turned on the young Potter halfway down the hallway. "Teachers are supposed to be listened to and respected! And instead you insulted him and made him throw not only you but the entire class out of the room and now we are going to be behind in our studies for the entire year because of your reckless irresponsible foul attitude."

"How did you get all of that out in a single breath?"

"Good breath control. Now answer my question."

"He insulted me and my father, several times in fact. He used to have a thing for my mum; I just thought he'd like to know what she thought of him."

"You knew he liked her and you still said that to him?"

"I would have said more if I could've come up with it fast enough. Maybe it's better I didn't though. The truth by itself can be terribly brutal."

"You played with him… telling him exactly what he wanted to hear before twisting the knife into his heart. That was malicious and vile Harry Potter." It was the look of disappointment that hurt the worst. "I thought from having talked to yesterday that you were better than that."

Harry tried to explain. He tried to reason it all out. He knew that his father, Sirius, and Remus would tell him he'd done the right thing by getting even and then some with Professor Snape. But Hermione was right too. He had intentionality hurt Snape without a second thought. Yes he'd been provoked and yes Snape had it coming but did that change the fact that Harry could and should have been the better man? He wondered what his mother would tell him; oh he had no plans of telling her. But the insistent musings of what his mother would have said didn't leave him alone for the rest of the day.

* * *

To say that one Lily Potter was irritated when she arrived home would be a disservice to the word. She didn't know why and she didn't know how but it was clearly James and his buffoon's actions that had caused it. Granted it had to be indirectly because not even James Potter could or would impersonate his son on his first day at Hogwarts just to piss off his old rival. Even if James was smart enough to pull it off and dumb enough to try it he just wasn't good enough to get the ENTIRE class thrown out of the class room inside of ten minutes. No, this had Harry written all over it, but James and Tweedledee and Tweedledum had managed to corrupt her son this badly without her knowing. They'd pay for that later after she sorted this mess at Hogwarts out.

James watched Lily storm into the kitchen and instantly knew she was in one of her moods. "Rose honey why don't you go play in your room for a little bit while Mommy and Daddy talk."

"Daddy are you in trouble again?"

"I don't think..."

"Yes honey your father is in trouble again so why don't you run up and play with your stuffed Marauders." James, of course, was frowning; he didn't recall doing anything this time. As a matter of fact he had a perfectly normal day without any Lily provoking moments at all. However he was certainly being blamed for something so the question became who was framing him this time? Sirius was the most likely suspect but Remus could be sneaky like that.

"Does the accused have the right to know what he's accused of?"

"You, James Potter, are accused and have been found guilty of corrupting one Harry James Potter beyond any hope of redemption." Oh. Bugger. He was, at least partially, guilty of that. It had been a group project and it really didn't seem fair for him take all the credit for the wonderful results.

"And what is the evidence of one Harry James Potter being corrupted beyond hope?"

"Here!" Lily slammed the envelope from Hogwarts down in front of him. "Your son managed to get his entire class thrown out of the classroom on the first day within ten minutes of the class starting. He might just be worse then the three of you combined!"

James was torn. Such conflicting emotions. He'd taught his son better than that. If he was going to do something disruptive he knew better than to leave evidence. But to get the entire class thrown out? That was a record and required a small amount of pride to be recognized on achievement alone. Looking into the envelope to see what exactly Harry had done any sense of anything other than pride vanished in the next heartbeat. "Lily honey can we get Harry a new broom for Christmas?"

"James, you want to reward him for treating a teacher like that?"

"No, I want to reward him for treating Snivellus like that." Rereading the letter again James let out a low whistle. "Whatever the master of grease did he must have pissed Harry off something fierce. This isn't anywhere near Harry's normal operating method." Lily looked at her husband again and could certainly see the dots James was connecting now that James had mentioned them. "Harry has his own code of how he does things. First and foremost in five years I've never seen Harry fire the opening shot, he's never picked on someone he considers weaker than him, and he never tries to actually hurt someone. Harry favors being annoying and causing embarrassment; the things said in here were meant to open old wounds and rub salt in them. The last time I saw Harry do something actually hurtful was when we decided to prank Rose by turning her new doll into a snake. For Snivellus to push Harry to respond to that extent that quickly he must've done something to set Harry off." James didn't feel that it was necessary to say the doll incident was the only time they had ever played a prank on Rose.

Lily could only nod to that. Harry could be said to be a lot of things but the idea of her son being cruel without reason wasn't an idea she was exactly able to accept. "I'm going to Hogwarts to see if I can straighten this mess out. If I don't get some good answers you and your friends will have hell to pay." James watched his wife floo directly to Hogwarts with a grin on his face; he had a few calls to make and a small celebration to have in Harry's honor. Any time the greasy git got slammed hard enough to act like that it was good enough reason for the marauders to have a small party. It'd only take a few moments to get his best friends over anyway.

Walking into the Headmaster's office had never been enjoyable for Lily. When she was a student here she, unlike her husband, had tried to follow every rule and obey every teacher. She was, for the most part, a goody two-shoes and she knew it. It wasn't until after she had finished her owl exams and returned for her sixth year that she had started to relax and let her hair down, so to speak. Since she had graduated and the downfall of He-who-must-not-be-named she and James had not been on the best of terms with the headmaster. Amazingly enough most all of the Potter family's trouble with Albus Dumbledore could be laid at Severus Snape's feet.

It irked her sense of justice that Dumbledore admitted Snape was a Death Eater and he had walked without so much as a slap on the wrist. She could respect that Severus had played a critical role in the final months of the last wizarding war; but was that enough to justify giving him a clean pass for all the crimes he had committed? Lily's sense of morality said no it wasn't. Snape had murdered, tortured, endangered families, and god knows what else – he wasn't even questioned under an unbreakable vow or truth serum. While she didn't want to consider it there was no guarantee that Snape hadn't raped or molested children while working under the Dark Lord's orders. She could've accepted having his magic bound, memories wiped and forcing the man out of the wizarding world. She could've accepted him going into a minimum level prison where he was expected to make cures and research new potions to better the world. She, nor James, could accept him walking away like nothing happened.

Lily sat and listened to each side of the story noting the differences and where Severus was withholding or in some cases misleading the truth with technically true statements. When he mentioned he asked a few simple questions he had done two of his old tells. They'd grown up together and while his mind might be the equivalent of Gringotts when it came to Legilimency his body was not. They'd known each other since they were children. He never could sneak a half truth past her. She hadn't expected Severus to actually ask questions about a NEWT level potion on a student's first day, and the level and amounts of insults Severus issued in front of the entire class were more than enough to set Harry off in righteous anger.

"Harry please wait outside I'd like to have a word with your professor."

Lily walked straight up to her childhood "friend" and when she was within half her arms reach Severus made his final mistake of the night. He probed her mind. Any thoughts of this being a calm rational conversation left Lily's mind in that instant; if he was dumb enough to mind probe an unspeakable than what was protecting the students? Not a tenth of a second later a magic laced hand left a red imprint on the potion master's face. Such was the force of Lily's slap that Snape's head bounced off the brick wall of the headmaster's office; drawing her wand from her left hip with her right hand three separate overpowered spells landed within three centimeters of each other. A concussive hex that felt like a bludger impact being powered by a troll, a stinging hex that caused painful swelling and blisters on impact, and a curse that would make it feel like he was pissing lye for a week. Continuing with her rotating movement from drawing her wand she let her left hand leave an identical hand print on his opposite cheek before he dropped to his hands and knees in pain.

Lily had two types of anger. The first kind was the safe kind; she was like a loud fiery loud explosion. She'd scream and yell but so long as Lily was screaming she wasn't going to become violent. The second kind was the kind that sent anyone with two brain cells running for the hills. It was an ice cold fury of near silence. James had learned long ago that if Lily was mad and not screaming it was a very very bad idea to be in her sights or in her way. Lily's voice sounded like death itself whispering to Severus.

"Snivellus I work for the Department of Mysteries. I could have you tried for treason and through the veil before the sun rises tomorrow. You are a pathetic vile excuse of a human being. You never once loved me, Snivellus; you don't know the meaning of the word. Love is a self-sacrificing emotion that would force a person to give up everything they'd ever want for the happiness and safety of another. You've never once given anything up for anybody. You gladly took the message of a prophecy to your former master without so much as a second thought that you'd be endangering a helpless child. And when it turned out that it was my child you begged your Dark Lord not for my child's life or the life of my husband but to leave me alive so you could have me. Like I was a thing for you to own and control. Like I would ever let you have your way with me after you took away what I treasured most in this world."

Lily kicked Snape's groveling form in the ribs with enough force for a distinct crack to be heard and repeated the action but instead making contact with the Death Eater's face making the distinct crook in his nose turn the opposite direction. "Let me make this perfectly clear to you Snivellus; I hear about you attempting legilimency on my son and when I'm done inflicting pain on you I will turn you into an experiment for the DoM. By the time they get done with you death by werewolf would seem like a mercy."

With that being said Lily looked straight at the old and shocked headmaster and told him to get his pet Death Eater on a leash before he was permanently neutered. She left the headmaster's office without so much as a peep from even a portrait. She then proceeded to walk her son back to his dorm where she reminded him that getting his entire class thrown out on the first day was a bit excessive even by marauder standards. As she was turning away Harry called her back over and asked her a question she wasn't prepared to answer just yet. "Mum did you change your shampoo or perfume? You smell different but I can't really figure out why." Fighting down a blush that threatened to match her hair color Lily didn't respond but changed the subject and asked him not to worry about it.

Flooing back to her home she was able to catch her husband, Sirius, and Remus in the middle of doing a shot of fire whiskey while discussing the greasy git she had just left in a heap of pain.

"How did it go Lils?" Lily wasn't going to dignify that with a verbal response. Instead she conjured her own glass and filled it with apple cider and than refilled the rest of them.

"To Harry."

"To Harry." The marauders of course responded not knowing why or caring; Lily wasn't mad at them and that was always good news. Now James had more reasons to celebrate. Even if he didn't know them all just yet.


	9. Chapter 9: Flying lessons

A/N: Standard disclaimer still applies.

* * *

_Dear Kitten,_

_There was very little doubt of you being anything other than a lion; even your animal form is a large predator feline. How could you be anything other than a Gryffindor? Even had you been a slimy snake we still would've loved you just the same. Speaking of snakes, your mum was in a right fit about how horrible your potion master was on the first day of class; I won't tell you what she did in Dumbledore's office but I doubt you will be having the same types of problems with him. Just the same, if I was you I'd draw some runes to make your cauldron tamper-proof. The Malfoy family has been and always will be inbred idiots who think they're more important than they really are. It's a shame that crooked politicians have let them get away with murder for a large enough donation. How is Neville doing? I will worry about him sometimes. His father and I went through the academy together and while we weren't the best of friends he was a good man who had a bad end and I respected him greatly. He's always seemed overly polite for a boy his age but growing up with Augusta Longbottom would do that to anyone. Harry, I know your mum said you'd be maturing earlier and faster than normal but do try and show some restraint; this girl is bound to be lonely and homesick and she doesn't need you throwing yourself at her every ten seconds. I only caution you to be a little patient. I waited until fourth year to start throwing myself at your mother and I will have you know your mother only sent me to the Hospital wing twice in our seven years at Hogwarts. One of the times it was even an accident... at least that's what Lily claims. However if it would make you feel better and it really means that much to you I suppose I could approach her father about a marriage contract. I'd imagine you're likely off to your first flying lesson soon and I just wanted to remind you not to show off too much and that we all love you. _

_Love, _

_Prongs. _

Scowling Harry crumpled up the letter and tossed it into his bag. He'd repair it later before putting it into his trunk. The audacity of his father to imply that he was throwing himself at Hermione Granger. Harry wasn't sure what was worse, being called kitten by his father or the implication that he'd be interested in her. She was likeable enough when she wasn't berating him for something menial, but Harry had yet to forgive her over what she'd said when they'd left potions the first day. The next potion class two days later had been oddly calm, like the first day had never happened. Snape and Harry took on a policy of mutual ignorance. If each pretended the other didn't exist they seemed to get along in an amazing fashion.

Harry's dealings with Miss Granger were sadly more delicate. While the presence of several girls, in particular older girls, made the panther in Harry's mind purr none of them produced the level of effects the know-it-all seemed to have on the young animagus. Whenever she was around Harry inevitably seemed to do something reckless, daring, and normally in his mind awesome. Just yesterday Malfoy had come over to run his mouth with his pureblood mantra and the young blond ferret had used the word mudblood one too many times in front of Harry. It wasn't like Harry had been caught using a switching spell to replace the git's pumpkin juice for soap water. He hadn't even cost the house any points at all.

He'd tried explaining it to the girl but she wasn't hearing any of it. In the Potter household switching charms had been a way of life since he was nine. It was one of the few charms he could pull with intent alone whenever he wanted. The counter charm, of course, was just as critical in the Potter house and Harry had learned from Lily how to prevent his juice from getting spiked at the age of seven. To Harry it was a way of life as natural as breathing. Malfoy stepped over the line and Harry forcibly reminded him where the line was.

For Hermione, it was seeing two separate boys going by the same name and the one she didn't like was causing her to have bad flashbacks from her childhood. The nice polite Harry was studious, intelligent, and hard working. Potter was a bastard who seemed to have no morality or understanding of what was right or wrong and had no qualms about taking matters into his own hands. Hermione had seen it several times before. People like Potter always wanted something. Normally it was help with school, but eventually they'd start making fun of her too and the only ones who'd ever been there to protect her were her teachers and parents. Hermione was more than a little concerned that when Harry was tired of being nice he'd turn his savage tongue or his idea of "justice" on her.

Harry's first week of school had been delightfully boring. Apparently lectures in Hogwarts were just as boring inside the castle as they were being given by a werewolf at home. He had always preferred practical demonstrations and skills over theory. It wasn't until halfway through the first class of transfiguration that Harry was allowed to use his wand for the first time. The Task was dreadfully boring: turning a matchstick into a needle. But Harry had learned something valuable from that lesson. He easily could've been a puff.

He and Hermione Granger had actually made the same amount of progress by the end of the first class, which is to say they had both managed a slight change and their head of house had seemed rather impressed with even that much. Compared to the other almost twenty matchsticks not changing at all it was rather impressive. However the two of them had arrived at the same point through drastically different methods.

Hermione would cast the spell, then pick up the matchstick and examine it from every angle before closing her eyes for over a minute and trying it again. Harry, being a man of action, took to chain casting the spell for all he was worth. Granger must have cast that silly spell almost fifty times before getting the amount of change she did. Harry had cast the spell closer to five hundred times. Professor McGonagall had watched in awe and terror as Harry attacked his matchstick with a fervor she hadn't ever seen while wondering if the boys wand was going to ignite. Giving each of them a quick five points for their "devotion to excellent work" the class was dismissed with Hermione giving a slight glare at Harry.

Charms was a similar endeavor: Hermione slowly and methodically breaking down the spell and what worked and what didn't while Harry worked off of what felt right and brute hard work. In transfiguration Hermione had the first signs of success; in charms it was Harry's turn to win their race. It was an interesting concept that the two fields of magic, at least in Harry's opinion, were so drastically different. If one was to liken charms to something mundane they'd compare charms to a tool set. Each charm had a purpose, a use, and a place in a wizard's repertoire. Transfiguration in contrast was an art form where the wand was the brush and magic acted as the paint.

Harry's letter from his father was correct that he was on his way to flying lessons this afternoon and he had been looking forward to it all week. He still couldn't believe that Lady Longbottom had sent Neville a remembrall that morning. The things were scams at worst and as shoddy as divination at best. If they worked at all Neville could remember anything from where he lost one of his socks when he was nine all the way up to the night his parents were murdered. Some things were best left forgotten.

Harry could tell Neville was at best nervous and at worst terrified of the flying lessons. He'd never been one to take to a broom despite all the times the Marauders had tried to get the boy involved in a game or just a relaxing flight. Neville's Gran, admittedly with reason, never wanted her grandson anywhere near a broom. Neville was a walking disaster at the best of times even with his feet on the ground. It really wasn't all his fault either. He was so accustomed to being nervous and a disappointment that it had become a self fulfilling prophecy.

Assembling on the pitch, the first years were all standing next to truly archaic brooms. Looking at them Harry would not have been surprised if these things were archaic when his mother was trying to learn to fly. Harry had been flying since before he could properly walk and while a better broom is easier to fly with enough practice and raw talent a witch or wizard could fly just about anything with the right charms. Harry listened to the flying instructor talk about what everyone had to do to bring the broom up to their hands like it was something difficult or complicated. All that was really needed was to reach for the broom feeling your magic, see in your mind what you wanted, give the command, and to believe it would happen. And of all the steps only the last one really mattered.

He felt the old broom slam into his hand with surprising force as he watched the other students.. He was used to that kind of response but didn't believe the old twig had it in it. Weasley took a broom handle to the face, Malfoy held his broom level with a satisfied smirk, Granger and Neville and several others looked horribly disappointed that the brooms were not cooperating.

Ten minutes later everyone had finally gotten the brooms levitating and the grips correct. Professor Hooch made minor to major corrections to everyone's grips, excluding Harry despite her comment that his grip was an advanced grip that traded stability for greater control. Really, what had she expected? He'd been taught how to fly by James could-have-gone-pro Potter, he'd learned this grip when he started flying actual training brooms instead of just toy brooms.

Despite the constant reminding Neville still failed to land after being asked to hover in place and when he panicked he fell. That's when things got interesting. For Harry magic was mostly instinctual. He'd levitated books, food, and even water more times then he could count, always without a wand. Surely trying to stop a falling friend couldn't be any different could it? Had Harry been any more incorrect it'd had been comical. Harry lashed out with his magic trying to catch Neville in mid fall without using his wand. The task was easily a hundred times harder than anything else he had ever tried to do. Harry shook and gasped at the strain of barely slowing down Neville and ten seconds later was sweating with exertion as his friend impacted the ground.

Harry staggered over to his friend as the flying instructor was helping the young boy to his feet. "I tried to catch you Nev, I tried but I didn't think it would be that hard."

"I know Harry I felt something slowing me down, Madam Hooch thinks I might have gotten away with only spraining my wrist instead of out right breaking it. Thanks for that Harry." Professor Hooch instructed everyone to stay on the ground while she was going to be taking Neville to the hospital wing under a threat of throwing anyone she caught on a broom out of Hogwarts.

That's when Draco, being a git in his normal fashion, insulted and attempted to steal the remembrall from Neville. " Give it back, Malfoy."

"I think not Potter. I think I'll leave it on the roof unless you think you can do something about it."

"No, Harry, don't do it. The professor said to stay on the ground and I'm sure she's bound to be right back Harry please don't get us all in trouble again." Of course Hermione was babbling again.

Harry looked right into her eyes and Hermione held her breath in the intensity. "He insulted my friend, Hermione, and he's trying to steal his stuff and either break it or lose it permanently. I wouldn't let him do that to a perfect stranger, so why would I allow that to happen to somebody I respect? I wouldn't let Malfoy do that to you or any other lion so why would are you trying to stop me?" And with that Harry was off moving with a good deal more elegance and at a better clip.

Hermione watched with a stunned expression. Harry had in some backhanded way implied that he respected her, but he was up there in the air willingly breaking the rules so how much did his respect actually mean? She watched as words were exchanged and as Harry lunged past Draco in an attempt to try and get the remembrall. Draco spun end over end before launching the crystal ball high into air. Harry launched himself in anger past Draco again and clipped the blond boy's shoulder sending him spinning and tumbling towards the ground. If Harry even noticed that he had hit Draco he never paused long enough to even look back. But watching Harry fly was awe inspiring for the girl who was more than slightly scared of heights. Being afraid of heights was perfectly irrational and Hermione recognized that but being scared of falling from extreme heights made perfect logical sense.

Despite her own fears she could admire the grace and elegance of what Harry was doing. She watched the boy dive and corkscrew like a stunt plane she had seen at an air show she had gone to with her father. She watched as the green-eyed boy headed straight for the dirt only for him to level off just above the ground at the last moment as he snatched Neville's remembrall from impacting the ground less than a foot above the grass. She watched as the boy spun and corkscrewed once again bringing the broom upright to match Malfoy's arrogant ascent from earlier. Never would it be said by Hermione Granger that Harry Potter did not know how to fly. But did he really have to endanger another student while acting like a peacock?

Hermione was distressed. Here everyone was cheering for the boy who had just ignored a teacher and endangered a student and himself over a ball that he admitted was likely a piece of junk. And here came there head of house. Hermione could see it now, the boy's parents were going to be called in and he'd be lucky if he didn't get expelled. Really why couldn't that boy just listen?

Harry was experiencing anything other than fear. "You want me to be the Gryffindor seeker?"

"After that amazing display of talent not letting you play on the house team would be tantamount to handing the cup to the snakes and that would just not be acceptable would it, Mr. Potter?"

"Of course not, professor. But I'll have to let my family know I'm rather certain my father and his friends will be excited to hear the news and I might even be able to talk him into sending me a new broom." Harry was already more than convinced he'd be able to talk his father into a new nimbus. After all, it wasn't every day a first year made the house team.

A/N

I'd like once again to thank everyone who's been reading, reviewing, and following the story. In general I have received very few negative comments/critiques and the few I have are either valid or more questioning than anything else. I'd like to respond to a few of the more common ones.

1: Harry's animagus form: For clarity's sake Harry's feline form is classified as a panther due to its coloration (being all black) and it is a hybrid of a jaguar and a tiger. The form is roughly seven hundred pounds, nine to ten feet long and roughly three feet tall at the shoulders. This is by no means the largest hybrid feline out there (which would be a male tiger/female lion mix and would weigh in just over a thousand pounds). My reasoning for selecting this form is in the physicality that will be required from Harry's animal form. While Prongs and Padfoot are in any means a danger to a pure jaguar I doubt the same could be said about a werewolf or troll. Likewise if Harry had turned into a Nundu and was the size of an elephant the Marauders wouldn't be unable to rough house with him and the story would degenerate into "Harry transformed and ate the bad guys." I tried to explain the method for the transformation without giving too much of it away. I fully expect to have Harry assist the next generation of Marauders through their own transformations and I wanted to be able to delve into a little more later on. Harry's transformation was an actual bonding with his guardian spirit versus a highly complex bit of self transfiguration into animal's shape. It's the reason so much of the panther is bleeding over.

2: Lack of interaction with Rose. Granted I'll admit it I do ignore her to an extent. However writing a child that is six years old is just not something I'm good at. I thought I managed a rather good scene between the two of them on the train but in general she will be brought into the story more heavily later on. She's not forgotten, but she will be harder to bring into the story than Colin Cravey's little brother.

3: Lily's rather abusive treatment of Snape: First and foremost the man endangered her baby. There are no questions or justifications about that. Snape's actions painted a target on Harry's back for Riddle; what mother wouldn't have short fuse with a man who could've gotten her child killed? Secondly, he attempted to attack her mind (in the headmaster's office, no less, with her being an unspeakable) without a moment's hesitation. Invasion of privacy aside without proper mental shields Snape would be perfectly capable of brain washing someone without them ever knowing. However as a story point I had two functions I wanted to make clear. Lots of people make the mistake that Lily and James are perfect people. They're not. Lily has a terrible temper and James has his own flaws as well. More importantly was what Lily said to Snape. I can't redeem Snape the way he starts off in cannon; I have to cause a situation that forces him to break from his mold. I'm not saying I will redeem Snape, I'd just like to have the option down the line.

4: Grammar and spelling. Again I make no excuses nor do I claim perfection. 9/10 times after I've written a chapter I'm tired and my mind is going fuzzy. It's not an excuse not to proof read the chapter or to have it proofread by another. However I will say this any mistakes brought to my attention I try to correct (not just past tense either I try to correct them in my future writing as I'm writing). I don't claim to catch them all. I don't know anyone person who does. But as of now I think I've gone back and hit most of the errors that have been mentioned. For those of you who have been here since the start of story I can only apologize for the choppiness my grammar and spelling creates in your enjoyment. However I'd also like to thank you for helping me make the story better for those who are reading after you.


	10. Chapter 10: A baby dragon and a big dog

A/N: Welcome back to all those who have read, reviewed, are following, and enjoying the story.

For those confused with the way James was writing to Harry about a contract with Hermione's father I'd like you to take a second look at it. He called Harry "Kitten" and of course signed it "Prongs". He was having fun with Harry because he can. there is no actual thoughts of marriage anywhere in anyone's head at the moment.

On with the story.

* * *

_Dear Mum and Dad_

_I'm starting to wonder if the world of magic is based on a world without any logic what so ever. Just last Friday we had our first flying lessons, unfortunately I'm still not over my fear of heights, and two of the boys in my class did something terribly illicit . The Teacher was taking one of the boys to the hospital wing after he had fallen and hurt his wrist and Draco Malfoy, a "noble pure-blood" in Slytherin house, started bad mouthing the boy who was hurt and was going to go and hide a gift he had received from his grandmother on the roof! But than Harry Potter, the same boy who got the entire class thrown out of our first potion lesson last week, took off after him like it was nothing at all even though the teacher said everyone was to stay on the ground. _

_While Harry was trying to get the present that Malfoy had taken Harry nearly knocked the other boy off his broom and it was only through pure dumb luck Malfoy was able to stop tumbling on his broom in time to stop the fall. Another three feet and there would have been two students sent to the hospital wing in the same lesson! And a teacher saw everything! But did either of them get in trouble? NO NOT AT ALL! No detentions, no points were taken off, and neither boy was even reprimanded._

_As a matter of fact because Harry was able to actually catch the gift, which was a clear ball the size of an orange, Harry was placed on to the House Quidditch team! He's being rewarded for breaking the school rules and not listening to the teacher! How does that make any sense? He even gets to have his own broom here now which is expressly forbidden for any other first year. Can you explain how any of this makes sense? I don't understand why breaking rules, not listening to teachers, and even insulting teachers to their faces isn't being dealt with more harshly. Harry's not the only one either a lot of the students in Slytherin are the same way. _

_Classes are going well. __I'm far enough ahead in the reading that I'm able to spend extra time in the library here __without having to worry about the reading assignments_. Mum you'd love it there has to be well over ten thousand books here and they can all reshelve themselves. Writing with a quill is taking some time to get use to but I think it's getting better. I'm still having problems with the parchment though; really haven't these people ever heard of lined paper? I swear I had to rewrite my first's weeks worth of assignments four times before I was happy with them.

_Annoying rule breaking boys aside I do love it here. I've always felt out of place but I feel ... more alive here I think is the best way to describe it. I was actually the first one to change a match into a needle in transfiguration and seeing myself do magic made everything so much more real for me. Like this isn't a dream and I'm suddenly going to wake up from. I do miss you two and the rest of the family. I was hoping I'd be able to make some friends now that I'm where I belong and the people are like me but that hasn't happened yet. It's only been a week but even though I feel more alive I still feel lonely from time to time. _

_Love,_

_Hermione. _

Hermione looked up from her letter that she would be sending home later with a school owl to see Harry and Neville sitting down a few feet from her on the opposite side of the table. It seemed like it was an unspoken rule that first years normally stuck together. At least she hadn't seen anyone else break that mold yet. Thank god Ron wasn't with them; she hadn't eaten yet and trying to eat around him was distasteful. "Nev have you ever heard anyone snore that loud?"

"God no Harry. I Swear my bed was shaking from the vibrations coming out of his nose."

"I take it one of the boys in the first year dorms snores?" Hermione interjected into the conversation.

"Ron." the two of them answered, Harry continued. "I swear if we don't do something soon about that boy were all going to die from lack of sleep."

"Maybe you two could get an older student to show you the silencing charm? At least that way you could get some sleep." She watched as Harry's eyes widened in anticipation and perhaps a bit of glee. "It'd be best though if he'd go and see Madam Pomfrey Something could be terribly wrong with him."

"Ms. Granger I do believe you have the right idea however a charm won't last long enough. We'd be up every hour or so to reapply the damn thing. However something else like that could work. I'll have to break out my dictionary and my inks but I think you're on to the right idea. So bloody simple why didn't we think of that Nev?"

"Maybe because the answer was to simple? Here we were thinking of trying to fix the problem and all we really have to do is fix the problem for the four of us. At the very least Ron will be more likely to survive the year."

"Harry what are you planning on doing?"

"I was thinking I'd etch a partial privacy enchantment on the posts of Ron's bed. I think I have the schematics in one of the books my dad gave me a year or two ago." Here it was Hermione's turn to be shocked.

"You can actually enchant things? I thought that was really advanced stuff how long have you been doing it and how did you manage to learn it when you couldn't do magic outside of school?" Harry and Neville were both giving her funny looks and she could only guess she had said something silly and didn't know what.

"Hermione you can do magic outside of school. We've each been using magic at home for years."

"But I thought that underage witches and wizards were forbidden from using magic outside of Hogwarts."

"Well that might be the letter of the law but they really mean is that we're not allowed to use a wand outside of Hogwarts. Tell me Hermione would you consider potions magic?"

"Of course."

"Now tell me what exactly do you do to make a potion. In the simplest of terms please."

"To start you find the instructions, prepare your ingredients, and then combine them according to the directions."

"How exactly is that different from cooking?" This comment from Harry brought Hermione up short. She'd never really considered that line of thinking; for being an exceptionally intelligent young lady Hermione Granger was also incredibly naive and trusting. She'd been told no magic under any circumstances and she had believed that. And professor Snape had made potions sound like an art.

"But there's magic and were not supposed to do magic."

"Of course there's magic Hermione but the magic is in the potion and in the ingredients. For all intents and purposes your parents could make a potion."

"They could?"

"Yeah absolutely there are several squibs in the villages across the globe that serve as potion makers because that's the only job they can really get." Here the three young Gryffindors were accosted by a snake and his two pet trolls.

"Enjoying your last weekend in Hogwarts Potter?"

"Well I was enjoying this morning in Hogwarts until you showed up Malfoy but I'm not sure what you mean by my last weekend here."

"You mean your not being expelled? You bloody well near killed me with your stunt on the pitch on Friday."

"Actually thanks to you Professor McGonagall opted to place me on the house team directly as the new seeker. Thanks for that Malfoy; I'd never been able to convince them to let me try out on my own. You gave me the perfect opportunity to show case my talents on a broom - my head of house is very much looking forward to getting the Quidditch trophy back."

"When my father hears about this..." Harry jumped to his feet and within a second was moving closer to the blond.

"Yes run to your father like the coward you are so my father can let the whole Wizengamot know that the heir to the Malfoy name is nothing more than cowardice bully who can do nothing without holding daddy's hand. Tell me baby dragon do you still suck on your mothers tit for breakfast as well?" At this point Harry was with in inches of Malfoy and the last part had come out in nothing more than a whisper that only the six first years could hear.

Harry watched Draco's eyes narrow in anger not knowing what to do. Drawing his wand and getting a spell off at that range would be tricky at best. Potter's father was a well known auror and if he had been taught how to fight by him Draco didn't like his chances. That's not even considering what his blood traitor uncle could have taught his nemesis. "Wizards duel. Here at midnight tonight."

"You're not worth the effort Malfoy but I'll be here. Heir Longbottom would you be my second." Harry asked using the official words. Either Malfoy would back down when he heard them or he'd be more enticed to actually show up. Granted the challenge hadn't been issued formally but Harry wanted his response to be proper.

"Of course."

"Harry you can't be serious. You'll get in trouble."

"Not as much trouble as I'd be in if I didn't show up Hermione. And not near as much trouble as Malfoy will be in if he doesn't show up."

"You're bringing the squib to be your second? I'll be there Potter." Malfoy called as he walked away.

"Harry you know he isn't going to show up."

"Of course he isn't Nev."

"Oh good you're not going to go then are you Harry?"

"Oh I'll be there but I don't for a second believe he will be."

"Than why would you risk getting caught after hours out of the dorms and getting in trouble?"

Harry looked at her with an intense look; as if he was measuring if she was worthy of hearing his reason. "Honor Hermione. I said I'd be there and that's where I plan on being. It's the same reason Neville is going to be there. If we get caught my mother and his grandmother will be disappointed for breaking the rules. If we don't go and my father and his grandmother find out we didn't show after we said we would they'd be livid. Both for going back on our word and acting like a coward."

"It'd be worse for me if I let you show up without me there."

"Why do you say that Neville?"

"Hermione Harry's the closet thing I have to a brother; he's the only friend I've ever had over to my home and one of only a handful of people our age who haven't made fun of me at one time or another. That alone would be enough for my grandmother to tell me to stand by his side. However our two families have long been allies when the chips are down. In over a thousand years if either Potter or Longbottom has called for assistance the other family has always answered. My gran would tear me apart if I broke a tradition like that."

"But that doesn't make any sense. You both said he wouldn't be there why would you both show up? Why not let a teacher know and get them to handle it?"

"What's there to handle Hermione? If we get a teacher he'll lie and say he doesn't know what were talking about and the head snake will of course protect him and try and turn it back on us. If we don't show up and he does than we look like cowards and we'd be oath breakers which would dishonor our family names. I know there is a lot you don't understand about the wizarding world yet but something like that is a very big deal where magic is concerned. If we show up and he doesn't we are proven right and go back to our dorms like nothing happened."

"And what happens if you both show up."

"We'd most likely dual than."

"But Harry you and Neville could get hurt!"

"Oh we won't get hurt Hermione it's just Draco. He's absolute rubbish at everything other than running to his daddy for protection." Hermione bristled at Harry's casual dismissal of the 'baby dragon'. She couldn't quite stop the grin on her face as she looked down at the ground. Crude that Harry was his comments had still been funny. Looking back up she looked to Neville before speaking.

"Neville what did you mean when you said Harry's one of the only one's our age who hasn't made fun of you?" From the tightening of Neville's lips and the narrowing of Harry's eyes she could tell she had hit a soft spot for the two of them.

"It's kind of personal Hermione. I'm not saying I won't tell you just I'd like to know you better before I talk about something like that. It goes back to the night my parents died and well it's not something I like talking about."

"I understand Nev. Maybe when were better friends?" There was a bit of hopefulness in her voice that each of the boys caught with the end of her sentence.

"We'll see Hermione."

That Night, for reasons and circumstances she would never understand, Hermione followed Harry, Neville, and the Ron ,Ron wanted to be there to see Malfoy get what was coming to him, down to the great hall. Just as Harry and Neville predicted Malfoy never showed. Filch did though which was a bit surprising. The four young lions fled in unison and after taking a wrong turn ended up in perhaps the one corridor in the castle they really should have avoided. Ducking into a locked closet it was only Harry's animal level sense of smell and inspiring reflexes that allowed him to whip out his father's invisibility cloak and throw it around the four of them. Wrapping his hand around Hermione's mouth he pulled the girl down so both of them were kneeling where moments later they were followed by Neville pulling Ron into a similar position. The four of them watched as the giant Cerberus lifted it's head to sniff several times before getting up turning around and laying back down to sleep. The four of them made their way back to the Gryffindor tower where Harry excused himself from the four saying he had something that needed to be done. Hermione, wanting no further adventures that night, was quietly appalled that Harry was leaving the dorm again.

The following morning was a horrible Monday to be a Slytherin. Hermione was sitting down eating breakfast when an absolutely exhausted Harry sat down next to her. " Did you sleep at all Harry or did your personal mission force you to pull an all-nighter?"

"Didn't sleep. Didn't even get back to the tower before five thirty."

"And what pray tell was so important that you had to spend all night doing it?"

"Look at the snakes tables." Looking up she saw what Harry was talking about. Every person at the Slytherin table was breaking out in acne. However it was by no means random. Even from across the great hall it was clear to see that every person at the table had the exact same pattern of zits on their faces.

"Harry do those symbols on their faces mean something?"

"Their runes Hermione. And each one of the three have a meaning. The one on the left cheek means cowards, the one on the right cheek means liars, and the one on the forehead means bigot." Harry was apparently too tired to even pretend he didn't do this; he hadn't even bothered looking up or opening his eyes. Looking up she could see the bird she had sent off yesterday afternoon was returning with a letter from her own parents. She took the letter and offered the owl a piece of bacon before opening the response from her Parents.

_Dear Hermione_

_Your father and I are glad to hear your classes are doing well; not that there was ever any doubt. The library sounds amazing, maybe one day I'll be able to come and see it. I'm sure the writing difficulties will get better with a little more time, it's a big change and you've got to give yourself some time to transition. _

_Hermione is there a reason you're being so hard on this Harry fellow? While we've always stressed to you that listening to those in authority is important you've seen to forgotten that we've always told you that doing what was right was even more critical. It doesn't sound like this Harry bloke is all that bad really when you look at it. Everything you've written suggests that he's either been provoked or has been trying to stand up for somebody else. He actually sounds like he could be a good friend. That or a horrible enemy. If I was you I'd ask yourself which one you would rather him be. _

_Sorry darling that this is short but we never know when we'll get a chance to write you again and we don't like keeping the owls here for any longer than we have to. We'd like to try and send you something next week for your birthday but we're not sure what would be the best way to get it from here to there. Should we just tie it to the owl and ask it to take it back to you? If you could ask that wonderful teacher who took us to Diagon Alley last year what would be best your Father and I would very much appreciate it. _

_Love,_

_Mum_

Looking up from her letter and back to the Slytherin table she was forced to conclude that her mother was right. Harry Potter would be a horrible enemy to have. But maybe just maybe he could be a good friend as well.


	11. Chapter 11: A gift for a bookworm

A/N: Once again I think those who are reading and enjoying the story. I know I normally try and get my updates out faster but I had a block trying to connect the last chapter and the Halloween incident. This chapter isn't much more than a filler chapter but it allowed me to talk about some of the intricacies of magic. Not necessary by any means but hopefully fun and entertaining. I also had come a question that I asked myself; how exactly would a first generation witch be able to get presents or gifts while at Hogwarts? Their parents can't use a wand so feather weight and shrinking charms can't be used for an owl to carry them. Diagon Alley is supposed to be impossible to find for a muggle and even if it was found it requires a wand to open the arch way. What else is left if they can't get into a magical community and they can't send anything on their own? This chapter is part of an inspiration to answer that question.

On with the story.

* * *

It had been a week since Hermione's birthday and it had been a depressing week for the now twelve year old girl. Of her roommates Lavender and Parvati were some of the most superficial gossiping bints she had ever had the displeasure of meeting. And even after nearly three weeks of sleeping in the same room with the other two girls she couldn't say anything about them beyond their names; Fay Dunbar and Alice Tolipan. They were like phantoms or something, they seemed to persist in a state of both existing and not existing all at once. More importantly this was the first time she hadn't been with her family on her birthday, nor would it be the last. It was a surprisingly lonely experience. No cake, no presents, no gifts, no one to even wish her a happy birthday. And after three weeks of being at Hogwarts the closet thing she had to a friend was the politeness of Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom.

They weren't really her friends. There were times she argued with them, well Harry at least, more then anything else but the arguments had an air of intelligence she couldn't deny. Mostly the arguments centered around Harry's mischievous nature or his rather clearly overt disregard for rules or authority. Harry held the position that some rules were more important than other rules and that the spirit of the rules mattered over the letter. If the letter of the rules had to be broken to maintain the spirit then so be it. He maintained that there was nothing wrong with having the entire Slytherin house break out in acne, after all Malfoy had broken faith with their agreement. . The fact that Harry had targeted an entire house for the actions of a few didn't seem to bother him at all.

Hermione of course had taken offense with Harry's assault on the snakes. Harry asked her if he had caused any harm or pain to any of the snakes. Even Hermione was forced to accept, embarrassing as pimples were for a teenager, there hadn't been any real harm done. He than asked if what he had done was dishonest to which Hermione could only find a single valid counter argument. It was widely accepted that those in Slytherin house were all of those things and worse, but she persisted that not all of them could be like that. However even in what Harry had done he had been somewhat kind. By keeping the insults in a runic form only those studying runes would be able to read the insults, and those were mainly older and more intelligent students who already had confrontations with the snakes.

Neville by contrast was more polite and less argumentative. He himself was a quandary. If Hermione was going to compare the young boy to anything at all it would be an oak tree or another plant. Docile and reserved. He wasn't stubborn like one might have expected merely dependable and steadfast. Nor was he conceited like she would've a thought a child celebrity would have been.. There was a story there that the two of them hadn't felt inclined to share with her yet. However she believed them when they said they'd share it if they became close enough.

None of that changed what she was feeling at the moment though. She didn't want to believe that she was shallow or superficial enough to think that she was upset because she hadn't received anything on her birthday. It was more the sentiment that it carried with it. She knew she hadn't been forgotten but that's what it seemed like. At least in the mundane world the teachers would announce that it was a students birthday and the class as a whole would sing. Here at Hogwarts nothing had been done. It was lonely and depressing to be forgotten like that.

She was sitting in the common room going over the weeks potion essay when Harry sat down across from her. "What's bothering you?"

"Nothing's bothering me Harry."

"You're a horrible liar did you know?" A glare was her only response. "Your eyes are red, you've been sniffling, and you have been chewing on your lip, something you only do when there is something on your mind."

"What are you stalking me?"

"No just observant. I had to grow up paying attention to my surroundings."

"And why was that Harry?"

"My father and uncles are incredible pranksters. The three of them are in another league that makes the Weasley twins look right amateurs . By the time I was eight I could hardly go a day without finding a prank one of them had devised. You learn to pay attention to what's going on around you in a situation like that."

"I see where you get it from."

"I know we're not exactly friends Hermione but if you need to talk I'll listen. It's like Professor McGonagall said while we're here the houses are like an extended family."

He could see the tears in her eyes swell just a tiny bit. "Last week was my birthday Harry. My parents weren't able to figure how to send me anything. Not even a card, I had to wait until I sent them a letter so that the owl could return with even that much. It's just it's the first time I've ever been away from home."

"And it felt like everyone forgot your birthday." Hermione could only nod at Harry's insight. "Why didn't your parents send something on your birthday."

"I talk to McGonagall about it. She said that the only way for them to send something was by owl. She said they'd be able to rent an owl in Diagon alley and have my gifts shrunk so the owl could carry them but they weren't able to find the entrance. Not even to the leaky cauldron. I just never realized how homesick I would get by coming to Hogwarts. It kind of hit me this last week is all."

It wasn't anything Harry could relate to in the slightest. Between Hedwig, his parents being able to use magic, and the mirrors he hadn't lost contact with his family in the slightest. But that didn't mean Harry couldn't understand. He'd have hated not being able to talk to his family whenever he wanted. His family was truly the most important thing in the world to about them not being there for a birthday wasn't exactly pleasant.

Harry didn't know why he did it. He could say that about lots of things he did. Truthfully more than half of the things Harry opted to do were spur of the moment ideas. Looking at her bag he could see it was made out of leather which was a good thing. Leather would take an enchantment better than mundane synthetic materials. "Hermione does your bag have any significance to you?"

"Not really Harry. My mum and dad gave it to me but beyond that not really."

"I'll be right back. Can you empty your bag?" Five minutes later Harry returned with a box he had brought from his trunk. Seeing everything that she had been carrying and in her bag laid out, all thirteen books and numerous scrolls, Harry was forced to wonder if her bag already had an expansion charm on it. It didn't seem likely but maybe her magic was reacting instinctively to make the bag be able to hold all of that.

Harry sat down and started to work. Hermione sat down across from Harry oddly curious about what he was going to do. Harry started by turning her bag inside out and examining it's seems and the quality of construction. Most importantly he was making sure that the outside and inside material was one in the same. He withdrew a bottle of ink and three tubes of white salts. Watching Harry add the three salts to the bottle of ink Hermione felt the need to voice her concern. "Harry what are you doing?"

"Adding Silver Nitrate, Gold Nitrate, and Platinum Nitrate to this bottle of ink. I'm also going to add my blood to act as a magical additive and binding agent." This was said as Harry was slashing his left palm over the inkwell. Hermione watched in a stunned fashion as Harry let a small vial worth of blood drip into the ink. "The noble metals all have particular properties when used during runes and enchantments. Platinum is able to generate the most power, gold is known for having the largest magical reserves which allow for enchantments using gold to last the longest, and silver is the most efficient and cost effective."

"Magical blood while not required, acts as a binding agent for ink and improves the stability of the ink used in runic enchanting. Dragon blood is the most common but I've found that adding my own to the ink works just as well and the runes respond better when I charge them for the first time."

"Harry how do you know about nitrates and the like?"

"Chemistry was my favorite mundane subject Hermione." Harry had finished mixing the ink together and was starting to draw strange symbols on the inside of her bag.

"But your rubbish at potions." Harry looked at her with and annoyed look on his face as he stopped writing for a moment.

"Chemistry and Potions have absolutely nothing in common beyond physical actions involved in adding components to the different mixtures. Potions is far more like cooking then chemistry." He started writing again focusing once again on the runes he wanted to add to the leather bag.

"Harry that doesn't make any sense. I'd think the two are terribly linked. Potions is one of the few subjects I can explain to my parents in a way they can understand. Their both dentists and know enough about chemistry to make the connections. It's the same field for making medication and other substances that can ingested for varying effects."

"No Hermione I think you've got it wrong. Chemistry is a science where everything can be reproduced and the variables can be carefully controlled. The only thing that matters in a chemical reaction is the matter and energy involved. In potion making everything is a variable: time of the day and month when the potion is made, the cauldron the brew is made in, the number of times and directions the mixture is stirred, and even the manner in which the ingredients are prepared can play a part." Harry was finishing the part of the rune that would allow it to absorb ambient magical energy to maintain and recharge it's storage seals.

Hermione had a strong disagreement with that. She was rubbish in the kitchen and she had gotten high marks on her essays and potions so far. While Harry's arguments made sense in a certain light there were still several key places where he was most certainly mistaken. "Harry there is a reason and a rhyme for every step of a potion recipe. It's all there in the theory of how their made and all of them can be perfectly replicated. Part of it is that there is a flow and order to magic that can be studied and rules derived from there. It's the basis of the scientific method. Just because you lack the innate talent to grasp the particulars of potion making does not make it any less of a science." She watched as Harry continued to scribble across the inside of her bag.

Back and forth the disagreement went for well over an hour. Harry citing such things as solubility and atomic structure. Hermione cited the different text books and the in particular the potion ingredient reaction table. Neither would convince the other nor would they settle their differences over the matter. Harry would always consider potion making to be an intricate art that he admittedly did not have a talent for. Hermione would always believe that it would be an exact, definable, measurable, and repeatable science. Neither was ever fully right with the truth being somewhere between the opposing views.

The entire time Harry never stopped adding the runes to the inside of Hermione's bag. Neville had come over just after Harry had started working but after hearing their discussion opted to leave quietly. Anything that required him to think about Snape's class more than he had to was one of the last things he wanted to be doing. Hermione watched in anticipation trying to decipher what exactly Harry was doing. This was a first for her, having never seen ancient runes in action much less being able to see them being applied.

Harry turned her bag right side out before adding a half dozen symbols near the top before turning back to the girl. "Hermione may I see your finger?" Taking her finger and placing it near the top he pricked it with his quail and let a drop of her blood on the runes near the top of the bag. He drew his wand and placed the tip of it on the master control rune had had placed on the bottom of the bag before touching his magic and letting it flow into the leather bag to be controlled by the runes. "There done. Happy birthday Ms. Granger."

"Thank you Harry. What did you do?"

"Combination of things Hermione. The main thing is I added a charm that prevents anything that's inside of it from being felt. You could put twenty books in there and it wouldn't weigh anymore than the bag does empty. Beyond that I also added a charm to protect it from getting torn or dirty. The bit with your blood was to keep anyone who isn't you out of it. You're the only one who can open it and remove something that you've put inside. I thought about adding an expansion charm but the last time I tried that it didn't turn out so well."

"What happened?"

"I accidentally made the inside areaso big I wasn't able to pull anything out of it. I Haven't worked out a catalog and identification enchantment so adding a summoning charm wasn't an option yet."

"Why'd you do it Harry?"

"I don't know Hermione. It was the right thing to do and you looked like you needed something. I'm rather close with my family and birthdays are supposed to be about family and happiness. My mum's like you, a first generation witch, and we're not really close to what remains of her family. She went through the same thing you're going through and after her parents died she more or less broke off contact with her sister. My mum told me had she not found acceptance in the magical world she would have felt terribly alone. We may not be friends yet Hermione but there are people here like you and I just wanted you to know your not alone. It's not much but I thought it would be something that would be practical for you. Maybe this way you can carry more books back from the library."


	12. Chapter 12: Halloween

A/N: I'd like to thank everyone who has taken the time to read the story and I hope you all are enjoying.

I've been sketching and outlining the encounter with the troll since before I posted the first chapter of the story. I've done my best to keep it both believable and enjoyable, I myself don't enjoy reading about a victory that was earned through sheer dumb luck. Hopefully this does not disappoint in that regards. I have more to say about the story but not the words to say it in.

On with the story.

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Harry sat in charms class listening to the lecture on the levitation charm. He was slowly getting better with his spell work. His wand was learning from him and he was learning from his wand. The most important lesson he'd learned so far was that hard work paid bigger dividends than anything else. His magic was responding better to his demands but that only allowed him to have higher expectations. He kept his rapid fire pace of perfecting his spells, only now perfecting meant being able to do the spells like his parents did them. He wouldn't be satisfied until he could flick his wand at something and make it do what he wanted. He knew it was possible; after all he'd never once seen a wand movement or heard an incantation at home before. Clearly those things weren't needed. Shame he hadn't seen any progress on that front yet.

Harry was listening and watching Ron make a fool of himself. Really how couldn't the boy understand these things? Hadn't his parents educated him at all. While words and wand motions may not be required doing each of them wrong was a sure fire way to flop a spell. At the rate the ginger was going Harry was considering telling the boy to point his wand at the feather and merely willing it to float.

Hermione was shaking her head in frustration. Based on the way he was waving that stick his about you'd think he was the muggle born and she was the pureblood. She tried to correct him. Just a small change really in the way he was saying it. All he had to do was stress another syllable and not treat his wand like a switch.

How had the git responded? He told her if she was so good to prove it. So she did. A switch and a flick and up her feather floated. She heard the grunt and sigh that clearly told her Ron Weasley was not impressed. Than her feather was joined by another in mid-air. Her concentration slipped for a moment as she looked over to the owner of the other feather. Harry Potter.

She watched as his feather floated up to her own and then began to twirl around it. He wanted to play. She pushed with her mind in the opposite direction and twisted her wand slightly. Her feather spun and rotated along with Harry's making it look as if the two were dancing. Her own feather pirouetted while his circled behind and than bowed as her turn finished. She was brought out of her trance by the clapping of the diminutive teacher. The two of them were awarded five points each for their impressive use of the levitation charm.

Moments after leaving the class Harry and the other first year Gryffindors were treated to a disgustingly degrading rant by Ron Weasley about Hermione Granger. "Bloody know it all is it really any surprise she hasn't got any friends" Honestly she's a right nightmare." Ron either never noticed the girl he was degrading was behind him listening or he never cared.

It didn't matter, the results would have been the same. Hermione ran past the red headed boy with tears in her eyes and a shaking of shoulders from trying to get her sobs contained. Harry was of two minds. Part of him agreed with Ron. Hermione had problems relating to others and she could be terribly abrasive. Combine that with Ron's low self confidence and his envious nature and any interaction was a recipe for disaster. However the larger, stronger and more dominate part of Harry recognized to critical things: one it wasn't right to talk to anyone like that(excluding blond haired ferrets and their ilk) and two Hermione for all her faults was doing her best to help. All she really wanted was to be accepted. Was it really her fault that school and spells came naturally to her?

Harry wanted to go after her but even if he did what would he say? Crying girls was a topic that was not covered in marauder training or Sirius's female behavior discussion. The marauders were more concerned about avoiding everyone and Sirius was more concerned about getting girls out of their knickers. Neither circumstance really applied to this challenge. So instead of going after her Harry went to the afternoon class. He'd talk to her there or while walking to dinner that night.

Shame that Hermione never showed up for that class or lunch or anything else that day. It wasn't until dinner that Harry finally heard something about her. Lavender and Parvati provided the needed information. Hermione was in crying in one of the girls bath rooms and had been all afternoon.

Sitting in the heavily decorated great hall Harry was extremely concerned. Hermione had been crying for hours. Was what Ronald said so horrible that she'd been reduced to tears ever since the end of the charms lesson? Harry had seen Little flower act like this before but at the time his father had transfigured her dolls as she was picking them up into hissing snakes just after her sixth birthday. Maybe he just had a thick skin or maybe Ron had hit a soft spot in her armor but Harry thought Hermione was over reacting a tad. Either way the girl was still crying and that wasn't something Harry was prepared to deal with.

Just as the feast was ending the schools stuttering useless Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts burst into the great hall and loudly exclaimed " TROLL IN THE DUNGEON. Thought you ought to know." Before promptly fainting. Listening to Dumbledore ask everyone to follow their prefects back to their dormitories Harry had already made several conclusions.

Neville was hiding out in the tower mourning his parents. It was one of the traditions his family had adopted over the years. Him and his Grandmother lit candles and stayed home from any of the balls and celebrations that were hosted on that day in remembrance of his parents. It was part of their coping mechanism. Harry didn't have time to run back to Gryffindor tower to get Neville which meant he was tackling this problem solo.

Secondly Ron was getting a beating when everyone got back to the tower. Full marauder work up. Because he was an incompetent git and a world class jerk somebody was danger. Harry could've let that slide except for one thing. Ron didn't even look guilty or remorseful. Maybe the boy was just thicker than iced honey but either way he had to learn that actions had consequences. Ron was an insensitive git who indirectly was putting a person's life endanger. Granted he didn't mean to do it but even accidents have consequences. Harry's last conclusion was that if his mother ever found out about this he was going to be grounded until Rose graduated.

Harry drifted back towards the ends of the line of people heading back to the tower waiting for his chance to break away from the crowd. His first instincts had been to run ahead as fast as he could however the thought that there was a chance people would follow him and he'd run into the troll kept him in check. As everyone was turning left to go up the stairs and back to the dorms Harry turned right and to the best of his knowledge did something only he could do.

For the other marauders shifting to their animals forms was like flipping a switch. You were a human or you were an animal. For Harry it was more like a throttle or a choke on an engine. If he fully opened himself to the panther he could easily lose himself to the beasts instincts and baser thoughts. He had discovered over the months of being an animagus that the reason his senses were enhanced more than Padfoot's were because he subconsciously kept the bond with the panther partially open. Now it was time to pull on more of the panther.

Harry never got tired of the sensations he experienced when he shifted even a partial shift as this was. The world exploded in sights, sounds and smells that had been previously muted into the back ground. Harry's stride elongated and his muscles rippled and expanded before tightening. You wouldn't know it to look at him but Harry had just increased his body weight by half of what it was. This was as far as he could push the shift while still looking human, any further and he'd need to let the physical transformation manifest fully. This would have to be fast enough, as it was he was moving at about a third of shadows top speed.

Harry was following the vanilla, ink, and parchment scent he had months ago come to associate with Hermione. Where before it was faint aroma that surrounded her like an aura now it, and every other person in the school's, stood out like a trail. The problem ,Harry discovered, was the bad egg and rotting swamp that was coming from the same general direction. Harry didn't know if the troll had already found Hermione, passed her by, or was currently heading for her but the odds weren't in her favor.

Hermione unaware of the danger she was in was quite lost in her thoughts. It could have been worse she acknowledged. Before the amount of people her age who were even passably polite to her could be counted on one hand with fingers left over. Harry and Neville were exceptionally polite to her and others followed their lead. Well most people that weren't in Slytherin. There were several others who were exceptionally rude to her despite everything, most people she tried to help ended up making fun of her after the fact. It was primary school all over again.

It was a shame that Harry really was the bright spot of most of her days even though she loathed to admit it even to herself. The problem with Harry was that he came in two settings: Harry and Potter. The former was polite and intellectual and a general pleasure to be around. The latter could be anything from an overly aggressive bully to an unstoppable whirlwind of chaos. Just last week had had put super glue in two third years underwear! He said he had a good reason but she never found out why he had done that to the twins.

Hermione, being the highly logical and methodical individual she was, had spent the afternoon making lists and counter lists. She was trying to determine if she should stay at Hogwarts or go home. She loved magic and the sense of accomplishment she felt when she got a spell right for the first time. She was forgoing the ability to go to university like she had always planned by staying with a magical education. She was finally starting to understand herself and who she was. She missed her home and her family. She'd say she missed her friends but she hadn't ever had any really. She was at a cross roads and no matter how many ways she looked at it nothing seemed to favor one decision over another.

Harry hit the door to the girls bathroom at a dead run knowing that Hermione wasn't anywhere near the door. He hoped for once Hermione would be willing to listen to him without questioning everything he did. "HERMIONE WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE."

"HARRY! What are you doing in the girls bathroom? You're not supposed to be in here." Of course Harry couldn't be that lucky.

"Hermione we need to get out of here and get back to the tower like yesterday."

"Harry what's going on.? You're starting to worry me."

"A troll got into the castle and is wandering around while the teachers are looking for it." He opted to leave out that the troll was likely on this floor and if his nose was to be trusted heading for them as they stood in the girls bathroom. No reason to make her panic after all. Leaving the bathroom Harry was forced to grab Hermione and jump to the side dragging her underneath him. Moments later a sickening crack rang from the brick wall where a four foot tall club had impacted.

Now a rational person would've put the damsel in distress on their back or shoulders and runaway. However not even an idiot has ever once claimed that young testosterone filled males are rational individuals. No one ever has once claimed Gryffindors are rational in a crisis. Now for a young male animagus who had been sorted into Gryffindor who was already channeling a great deal of an alpha predator there really wasn't a chance for a rational thought. The thing in front of them was a threat and Shadow only had one way to deal with threats, he removed them. Violently.

Harry rolled to the side with Hermione before pushing her into the corner where he whipped his wand across with a barely perceptible swish and flick that sent the large club floating away down the hall. Than he delved into the panther becoming one with it and letting it flood his being.

Harry could've performed the transition elegantly and without pain had he been willing to take his time. Instead he forced the shift and explosion of power to happen as quickly as his magic could allow. Two seconds after his mind made the decision to bring out Shadow the large panther was roaring and circling the troll.

Everyone recognizes the advantages for the human form that are gained by bonding with the animal spirit. Nobody ever discusses what the other side gains. For the animal the heightened intelligence and knowledge are their greatest boons. No jaguar, tiger, or panther had ever seen or dealt with a troll. However Shadow's human knew all about them. It sounded vaguely like a walking elephant, although it did smell far worse. Thick skin, strong, and resistant to magic. Not that Shadow had any intention of using magic. More importantly the threat in front of them was regarded as slow, stupid, and rather clumsy. Shadow could work with that.

Hermione watched as the boy she thought she knew transformed into a giant black cat and without pause chose to challenge the twelve foot tall monster in front of her. She'd seen her head of house do something similar, but when she transformed she turned into a small house cat. To think that Harry could do the same thing!

Shadow lunged to the side to avoid the sloppy attempt to grab him by the scruff of the neck. The panther extended his claws and lashed repeatedly at the wrist drawing a thin line of blood. The troll pulled it's hand back wincing in pain. Pain was a sensation most trolls don't get to experience very often. The fact that this feline had managed to inflict such a sensation and draw blood irritated the large creature.

Shadow roared and let the sound echo off the walls hoping that the multiple sounds would distract the simpleton. The plan succeeded as the troll turned halfway around to look behind it for what it assumed was the beasts partners. Reacting as soon the troll started to turn the panther danced to the opposite side and jumped on the trolls back.

As dumb and as slow as a troll is even a troll would recognize something half it's weight latching on to it's back and attaching itself it with razor sharp claws. Shadow opted to take advantage of the position and began kicking, clawing, and digging into the trolls back with his hind legs. Within moments the trolls shirts were reduced to shreds and blood was running from the wounds the panther's claws had created.

Groaning in pain the troll reached behind it and grabbed the damned beast on it's back before hurling it against a suit of armor that stood against the wall. Harry let out a yelp in his panther form as he felt his left shoulder crack against the impact with the wall. This wasn't going as well as he had hoped, feeling the panther communicate a plan using their combined knowledge Harry nodded his consent.

Harry knew that almost regardless of the animal there were always similar weak spots. Shadow knew that if it's claws could damage that hide than his fangs and jaw could easily finish the job. The plan flowed around two lines of thought. Shadow relaying on the panther instincts knew that there was a throbbing vein in the neck that would remove any threat if he could grip it with his teeth and pull. Harry knew that even dragons had to protect their eyes and with those critical organs removed the troll would be radically weakened. Now to pull it off.

Limping and holding his left fore leg off the ground Shadow unleashed a challenging growl to bring the troll into striking range. Trolls were dumb, this trolls stayed true to his heritage. Leading with it's right first it attempted to crush the feline against the ground like a human would a fly. Moving at the last moment Shadow skirted to the side before leaping and crawling up the trolls large arm where it was in position to pounce. The troll far to slow and to thick headed to understand what was going to happen barely had time to turn it's head to look at the cat perched on it's arm before it leaped again. Only this time when it launched itself it extended it's right arm and claws and grabbed the side of the trolls face.

Using it's arm as a fulcrum Shadow's claws ripped across the trolls face taking both of it's eyes with them. Roaring in anger, pain, and fear the troll stood and extended it's neck hoping to shake it's foe off of it which is exactly what the panther needed. Paying no heed to the eye juice and blood running down the troll's blinded face Shadow latched on to it's jugular with all the power in his jaws before exerting every muscle in his legs and back as he twisted and ripped on it's throat.

Shadow was blessed with one of the most powerful jaws of all the mundane animals very little could with stand a dedicated assault. Troll hide was not on that short list that could. The trolls jugular gave way and showered the panther in blood. Combine an elevated heart rate from battle and having an artery leading directly to the brain and in moments the brain loses control of it's body. Blood pressure drops. Fainting becomes imminent. Death can be anywhere between seconds all the way up to two minutes if the body has enough blood. It normally doesn't matter though anything taking that kind of wound normally doesn't survive long enough to get medical attention. Not that anyone would have wanted to treat a troll.

Unfortunately for Harry he did not score the last blow in the battle. Gravity did. As the troll staggered backwards blind and bleeding death it toppled backwards and it's head impacted with Shadows head which impacted with the brick wall. The encounter with the troll hadn't lasted even five minutes but in that time Harry received a concussion, a cracked shoulder, and sever bruising to the face. The headmaster and heads of house arrived just in time to see the trolls head impact with the head of the panther. Not one of them knew where the large cat came from, they were just thankful that it had killed the troll and that Ms. Granger appeared unharmed. At least until Harry shifted back to his human form and stumbled away from the wall before vomiting. That's when pandemonium erupted.

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A/N Next chapter deals with the fall out of Halloween and will be taking place in the hospital wing for the most part. The whole gang will be there and I will be written as soon as I can channel my angry and frightened Parent persona.


	13. Chapter 13: After the troll

A/N: Once again I'd like to thank all those who are reading and enjoying the story. I'd like to apologize for how long it took to get this chapter out it was one of the hardest for me to write. I spent some time going back through the book and movie after I received a complaint about the way I was handling Ron's character. I wanted to make sure I wasn't intentionally bashing any characters without just cause or a reason that was driven by the plot. To that end I will say this. Each character changes over the course of the series, gradual as it might be, and excepting children to act like their seventeen year old counter parts is unrealistic. Ron's character doesn't come into it's own until after the disaster at the DoM. Before than he is materialistic, judgmental, jealous, lazy, and bigoted. You could make the argument those things don't change until after the series is ending, if ever. Ron is shown consistently as skipping homework to play chess or quidditch and consistently takes the easiest choice he can. Even as early the first book Ron acts as if Harry has everything in the world and he himself has nothing at all. I find it oddly ironic that both boys seem like they would've traded places if they could. You can't even say that he's the best of friends to either Harry or Hermione. Between the way he treat Hermione, while expecting her to do his homework none the less, and the way he allows himself to abandon his friends when things get rough I find it difficult to write Ron without him doing something that would anger the main characters of this story.

On with the story.

A/N2: I seem to have uploaded the previous version of the chapter. There isn't much difference between the one you might have read and this one. Predominately it's just a bit cleaned up and a little meatier in some areas. Oh and the ending is the actual ending I had planned about six hours ago. Sorry for any confusion I caused. I was uploading right before I went into work and I didn't catch it until after I got home when someone's review commented on the abrupt end.

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_That's pandemonium erupted. _

It wasn't everyday the teachers of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry were left stunned, shocked, or dumbfound. Than again it wasn't everyday they found a troll missing it's eyes and a good portion of it's neck either. Combined that with the frightened little girl in the corner and the broken animagus stumbling away from the corpse and it wasn't difficult to understand the reactions.

Harry stumbled and started to fall. Hermione for years wouldn't be aware of how or when she got to Harry's side but between one misstep that Harry had taken and the next that would've lead to the green eyed wizard hitting the ground she was at his side holding him up to the best of her ability. It was a place she'd swore she'd never leave. It was an eye opening day for her. She'd been saved not by rules and teachers but by a vigilante, there really was no other word for Harry that fit him quite as well. Looking up at the blank faces of those she had so respected she finally lost it. "You're all teachers! Are you going to stand there and watch one of your students bleed to death or are you going to bloody do something!"

It'd been years since McGonagall had been told off by a student, and a first year no less, but she wasn't about to take points off for the girls truthful words. Hermione looked like she was the only thing keeping Harry vertical and her words while disrespectful had been accurate. Harry was beaten to hell and all the great and powerful adults were doing nothing to help. Dumbledore took action first by levitating the boy and than added a mild sleeping charm to the mix. The Gryffindor head of house thought Harry would appreciate that, there wasn't any need for him to remain conscious for any of this now that the battle was done. McGonagall figured , that while he would be thankful to Dumbledore, he wouldn't appreciate what she had done. Either way she watched on as a silver cat race off into the night with a message.

"Wakey wakey kitten." James sat brushing the mop of messy black hair on his son's head.

Harry stirred under his fathers hand while keeping himself from moaning in pain. "Hey dad. How bad is it?"

"Broken arm and shoulder, moderate concussion, and you to be quite frank look like hell."

"You should've seen the other guy."

"I did Harry you did quite the number on that troll."

"Where's Mum?"

"I think she was looking for the headmaster, she had a few questions she wanted answers for."

"Poor guy. How much trouble am I in?" Hearing the door to the hospital wing slam open Harry looked over to see an apocalyptic look on his mother's face.

"HARRY JAMES BLOODY POTTER WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING." That wasn't a good sign Lily had already been reduced to resorting to foul language.

Looking up at his dad Harry found no sympathy his eyes before voicing his thoughts. "This might be worse than that one time Sirius and I were practicing Wronski Feints in the backyard."

"Oh no it's worse. Much worse in fact. I'm just letting her run out of steam before I start in on you, I think she's even invented new words to yell at you in the last six hours."

"Oh what time is it?"

"DON"T YOU LAY THERE AND IGNORE ME YOUNG MAN! WHAT ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH POSSESSED YOU TO GO AFTER A MOUNTAIN TROLL." Like a bulldog on a bone Lily Potter had a one track mind. At the moment she wanted to know why her son hadn't gone back to the dorms like he'd been told to do. Harry, who knew this routine well, nodded and grimaced where needed waiting his turn to explain why he had in his mother's words "allowed any semblance of intelligent thought to flee his body". It was a rather long wait. James had been right, six hours of a parents worst nightmare had driven Lily to new heights of inspiration.

Hermione who had been sitting at Harry's side ever he was brought in, and not even the hospital matron had been able to get her to leave, finally spoke after the red head's rant crossed the hour threshold. "Ma'am it really wasn't Harry's fault. He was coming to get me."

"And who exactly are you?"

"Hermione Granger Ma'am."

Lily's eyes narrowed at the girl who had yet to leave her son's side. "I thought Harry said you were smart. Maybe you could explain to me why you thought it was a good idea to go waltzing about the castle with a XXXX level creature out and about."

Now it was Harry's turn to level his glare on his mother. James was watching the by play and knew that things were about to get worse before they got better. This was all Lily's fault, she was the one who passed the " righteously morally stubborn" gene on to their son. When the two of them were on opposite sides of the argument, and each thought they had been doing what was right, it really became a situation where unstoppable force was grinding into an unstoppable force. The only thing that would effect either one of them when they got like this was giving them enough facts to sort through and hoping their conclusions would change. It took him six weeks to make Lily understand the nature and reasons for house elves after they had gotten married. Taking the wisest course of action James moved around to his son's other side and sat down next to the young witch. He vaguely considered conjuring some popcorn to enjoy the fireworks with but didn't think it was wise to risk his wife's ire in the current circumstances.

"It wasn't her fault mother." Oh dear Harry was just a little bit upset. "She didn't know the troll was even in the castle. She had missed dinner altogether and when the headmaster told everyone to go back to the dorms I knew she was in danger. I didn't go after the troll, I went to try and get her back to the tower. As soon as I found her the troll attacked us as we were leaving the bathroom." Now James found that to be an interesting bit of news. He had never come out of a bathroom with a girl while he was in Hogwarts and it had taken Sirius until fourth year to pull that off. Padfoot was going to be so proud right up until Lily castrated him and fed him his tentacles in spaghetti .

"And what were you two doing in the bathroom exactly?" Really Lily? Do you expect your son to talk about his first snogging session with his mother in front of the girl he was with.

"I was crying the bathroom Ma'am" James found a frown on his face, Harry had done such a horrible job that the poor girl had been reduced to tears? They'd have to schedule remedial training for the boy over the holidays. James may not have made the girls knees buckle with his first kiss but the girl certainly hadn't ended up in tears.

Lily looked at Hermione as if she was trying to divine an answer. Several emotions and grimaces passed over Lily's face. "You follow me I have some questions to ask you." Hermione steeled herself and followed Harry's mother several feet away where the elder witch placed a privacy charm leaving the two men alone. Harry looked at his father's face trying to determine what the elder Potter was thinking.

James switched gears to the concerned father position almost as easy as he changed from animal to human. "Tell me what happened Harry, I know you well enough to believe you had a good reason to ignore the headmaster."

"It's like I said dad. I was worried she was going to get caught by the troll and she didn't even know it was in the castle. I went to warn her and get her back to the dorms."

"Why didn't you tell someone else and let them handle it?"

"Who was I going to tell? The professors were all heading for the dungeons, the prefects wouldn't of known where she was, and nobody else could've kept up with me on foot as it was I barely got there in time."

"So you thought you were the only one who could've gotten to her?"

"That and without a teacher I didn't think she'd have listened to anybody else."

"What do you mean by that Harry?"

"She's got a bit of a thing about rules and authority figures."

"I see. Your mum was like that when she was younger, maybe not quite as fanatical mind you, but even now she's got a bit more straight laced than I am."

Meanwhile with the girls. "So tell me Hermione what were you doing crying in the bathroom and why was my son in there with you?" Seeing the rising blush in the girls cheeks Lily was forced to close her eyes and braced herself for a discussion she thought she had a few more years to get ready entitled _Witches and Puberty. _

Hermione Granger in all her intelligence was incapable of overcoming her embarrassment and informing Mrs. Potter she'd already had this conversation. That and Hermione, being the bookworm and knowledge lover she was, thought there might have been differences because she was a witch. She was sorely disappointed and further embarrassed. A great deal of embarrassment could have been avoided if Lily had asked a simple question or if Hermione hadn't been quite so accommodating to adults. But Lily had assumed that the reason a twelve year old girl had spent hours in the bath room were related to her becoming a women and Hermione not wanting to be rude or disrespectful didn't correct her. It was a very embarrassing ten minutes.

After Lily had bothered getting the truth about what had sent the young girl crying into the bathroom she had realized that Hermione was in need of a drastically different conversation. "So let me get this right, you were in the bathroom because an eleven year old wizard was making fun of you after you tried to help him in class?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Pure blood?" Getting a nod in return Lily continued. "Figures. So what are you going to do about that?"

"Why would I do anything?"

"Wait right here Hermione while I talk to my husband."

Walking back to the two men in her life Lily pulled James over for a quick conference to discuss what they were going to say to their son. Minutes later both of Harry's parents approached his bedside and sat down gently at his side. His mother was the first to go. "Harry I don't like what you did or why you had to do it or the fact that it landed you in the hospital. However I do understand why you're in here. That girl over there probably wouldn't be here right now had you not done exactly what you did. Your total disregard for rules and your own safety for someone else's well being is the kind of thing we've always meant when we said it was better to do what was right rather than what was easy. We are proud of you son, never question that."

"Thanks Mum."

"Rose has been waiting with Padfoot and Mooney out in the waiting area to make sure her favorite feline and mount were ok. You up for a few visitors Mr. Shadow?"

"Of course I am, bring on the circus."

"James you go get the other animals I need to finish having some girl talk with the young lady over there." James blanched and made a face at the mention of girl talk before retreating to his pack and daughter. There were some things, no matter how brave, no man wanted to be privy to.

Lily walked back over to the twelve year old in question and motioned for them both to sit before replaying the privacy charms from earlier. "Hermione it's time you got a crash course on the realities of the wizarding world. I think it's a horrible shame that first generation magicals get left in the dark with the dangers of our world. Trolls, manticores, dragons, chimeras, and other beasts of the magical world are dangerous but none of them should ever be a real danger to you."

"But all of those things you just listed are extremely dangerous and ..."

"And highly controlled and regulated. None of those things have mounted an attack on an unsuspecting witch or wizard in decades. Now if you go looking for them for some god forsaken reason yes they are dangerous and they need to be handled under very particular circumstances. However all of those things are either kept on reserves or live in magical wilds that nobody with even half a brain would go into without the proper training. None of those things are actually dangerous to the average magical Hermione. However that doesn't change the fact that the magical world is a very very dangerous place."

"Hermione I'm sorry I'm going to do this. I was blissfully ignorant of the truth of the magical world and it allowed me to act very much like the child I was. I'm sorry that I'm going to demystify our world and by doing so I'm going to force you to grow up a bit. I fought in the last war with the self proclaimed Lord Voldemort Hermione. If there was another way for you to be safe without knowing the gritty details I'd do that in a heartbeat. However knowledge is power Hermione and in this case knowledge will keep you safe."

"First and foremost Hermione you are apart of a society where every one over the age of eleven is expected to carry a lethal weapon every day of the week."

"I'm not carrying a weapon!"

"What's that on your hip in that holster."

"My wand ma'am."

"Exactly Hermione it's a wand. What's to stop a person from levitating you off a cliff? With a flick of a wrist and a muttering of a word that stick in your hand can sever a neck, pierce a heart, reduce a head to bloody mist, or sever a soul's attachment to the body. Make no mistake Hermione you are an armed citizen in a society where the weapons are sticks of wood with magical cores, Latin incantations, wrist movements, and pure willpower."

"Me and James raised Harry to know exactly how powerful and dangerous magic can be. We raised him to know that magic is a responsibility. Not all magical parents do that Hermione, a lot of them even do the opposite and teach their children that magic is a gift and a plaything for them that makes them better then ordinary people. Even a lot of the so called light families know nothing about the mundane world and look down on the so called muggles."

"You mean parents like Draco Malfoy's."

"Yes people just like him and his parents Hermione. It's widely accepted that Draco's father was a well known and upper ranking death eater who bought his way out of going to prison. People like him Hermione are the worst sorts of people alive. Voldemort's supporters when they weren't working on his orders preferred to partake in muggle hunting and torture for their amusement."

"Torture?"

"It's a dark world Hermione. I wish you didn't have to hear these things, I wish these things hadn't happened but the reality is they did and being naive in the magical world is a dangerous thing to be. Those monsters who were masquerading as human beings thought it was a good Friday night go out and rape and murder girls who were from a mundane family. The one's who were lucky were killed after the fact, the ones who weren't were charmed so that they couldn't tell anybody or could only recall it subconsciously. Those girls weren't ever able to trust anybody again and they didn't even know why."

"Why are you telling me this Mrs. Potter."

"Because it almost happened to me Hermione. Back when I was an Evan before I was married to James we had gone out on a date; our second date in fact. He headed for the restroom at the end of the night before taking me home and Lucius Malfoy and two of his goons tried to force themselves on me. I drew my wand and repelled them briefly but had James not come back when he did I'm not sure I'd be half the women I am today or even alive to be honest."

"Is that why Harry hates Draco and is so aggressive with him?"

"Our two families have never gotten along. I've never told Harry about that and I doubt James has either. It's not the kind of thing a mother worries about for her son. I'm dreading the day I have to turn my little girl into a young woman who distrusts the world around her. But I'd rather her be safe and sound than ignorant and in danger."

"Is that why you're telling me all of this?"

"A good part of it is. The magical world is chauvinistic, bigoted, lazy, and illogical Hermione. More often than not this world suffers from lack of consequences for what in the mundane world would be breaking rules and committing crimes. If a normal person beaks a bone they spend weeks in a cast and trying to recover. Here you can break a bone and have it repaired and numbed with three flicks of a wand. Shatter an antique vase that was passed down through the generations and it can be fixed with a basic charm that a first year can manage. For you at home it be a part of your family history that was lost forever. A wizard rapes and murders a dozen women and a few flicks of a wand erases all the evidence and a memory charm later and not even the strongest truth serums can make him confess."

That's when Hermione started to shudder. "But ….."

"No buts Hermione. This is the reality of being a witch. Everyone over the age of eleven carries a lethal weapon that is capable of removing evidence, brainwashing witnesses, and making it seem like it never happened. Pure blood wizards don't understand the idea of consequences Hermione. It's just the simple facts, furthermore they don't change until something happens to them that magic can't fix. Almost every pureblood I know is the same way. The best pure blood wizards and witches I know all have a sad story in their past. James was the same way once upon a time."

"What happened to change him?"

"He was out one night the summer after our OWLs with his friends. When he came home a skull made out of green smoke with a snake coming out of the mouth was hanging over his home. His mother and father were left stuck to the walls bleeding to death with their intestines wrapped around their necks and his younger siblings were in pieces. Literally in pieces Hermione, the two of them had been drawn and quartered while their parents had been forced to watch. They were a set of twins that were slated to start Hogwarts the following September. I doubt Harry even knows he could've had an Aunt and an Uncle. To this day James doesn't like to talk about them. It was the first time he realized that magic couldn't fix everything. It was the first time he had to deal with the consequences of someone's actions without using a wand and was one of the main reasons he went to work for the DMLE. He changed a lot after that summer. That sixth year after that horrible summer is when I started see the man he was becoming and when I started to fall for him."

"Why is it like this Mrs. Potter?"

"It's cause and effect dear. Even here at school you should've seen it by now, how many times have you been harassed by bullies wearing silver and green?" The silence was more enough of an answer. "How many times have you seen them actually being punished for the way they act? What do house points really matter in the scheme of things?" The grimace and frown adorning the face of the young witch in front of her was again answer enough.

"But if that's the case what can I do Mrs. Potter? What did you do?"

"You introduce them to Consequences with a capital C. That's what I did, and it's what I made sure my son learned to do."

"You mean Harry?"

"Of course I mean Harry. Do you think I let my husband and his friends turn my sweet little boy into a marauder for the fun of it? Of course I didn't you silly girl. No the only reason I agreed to let Harry become a marauder was so he'd learn not only to fight back but how to fight back."

"What's a marauder."

"The marauders were what my husband and his best friends called themselves when they went to Hogwarts. They say they started their little gang as a way to fight back against others who were getting away with murder. I don't know if they meant that or if they just used that as an excuse to go about pranking anybody or anything who pissed them off. I do know that those people who they took vengeance for slept better at night knowing their tormentors had been punished."

Lily Potter really should have been more aware of who she was talking to. Hermione Granger, who in her own right could have given Lily a run for her money in a decade, was having a series of realizations. Her highly analytical and logical mind was connecting a series of dots, conclusions, and outcomes and the picture that was coming into focus wasn't pretty. "Mrs. Potter how do people learn right from wrong?"

So Lily gave the girl in front of her the best answer she could. "Predominantly they learn from their parents or teachers. Mainly through a combination of imitation and punishment for bad behavior."

"Exactly and even here at Hogwarts getting out of punishment is far to easy." Without consequences people would evolve from using words to hurt others to using violence. It was escalation in one of it's most basic and primitive forms. It was one of those simple things anyone could understand. It was something she had lived. If a person could get away with making a girl cry by saying something mean to her it wouldn't be long before they tried to make her cry by knocking her books out of her hands.

From her own experience being the outcast in a school full of "normal" people she understood two fundamental truths about her "peers". One people wanted to fit in and be popular and if they had to make someone else suffer to do that most would. Two bullies took enjoyment from perpetuating a cycle that protected themselves. By hurting others, and getting away with it, they reinforced the notion that they were untouchable. This lead to more fear which in turn lead to the arrogant bullies being able to get away with more.

"So what do you think I should do about Ronald."

"Talk to Harry young lady. He's a marauder in more than name if anybody can handle it without taking it over the line it would be him. Now enough of the grim talk lets rejoin the boys and I'll introduce you to Harry's uncles and our little flower."

Approaching the rest of the Potter ensemble they were treated to the ending of Harry's retelling of how he battled the troll. It was a brilliant piece of fiction that Harry was totally and completely making up for his sister's sake. Harry had removed any sense of danger, gore, or fear from the story and had totally focused on the sense of adventure and enjoyment. If one were to believe his retelling Harry had all but made the troll knock it self out with it's own club without ever taking a scratch. According to the fiction the only reason Harry was in the hospital at all was because he had slipped on the stairs during his victory dance and hit his head. But judging from his eyes Lily and James each knew Harry didn't believe a word of it. Harry had been extremely scared and was only holding the mask of the story together for Rose's sake.

Changing the subject away from something that she was still uncomfortable listening to Lily brought up the reason they were all together in the hospital. "So Harry what are you going to do about this Weasley chap.?"

"Why mother dearest I haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about."

"If I know you half as well as I think I do you already have something in the planning stages. So come on spill it."

"Mum if anybody has the right to seek retaliation against Mr. Weasley it's Ms. Granger, not me."

"Well than Harry if it's my right to seek it why don't you tell me what you have planned and we'll take if from there."

Now this had everyone, with the exception of Lily, looking at her with wide eyes. "Hermione I thought you were to straight laced to want involved in something like this."

"Ron needs to learn a lesson, he won't grow up and will keep doing stuff like this until he does. Tell what you have planned Harry."

"Just random thoughts at the moment but I was thinking an eye for an eye. But we need more information before we can set anything in motion. The fact that you are going to be instrumental in executing his punishment is like a cherry on top."

"Hermione Harry wrote to us about a bag he worked on for you, do you have it with you?"

"Yes I Do Mr. Potter, why do you ask?"

"I'm always interested in how my son is applying his talents and family traditions. May I look at it?"

"Certainly sir." Moments later James was holding a bag that had been emptied of enough books to impress his wife.

"I've never understood how you figured out how to add multiple metals to the ink Harry. That alone is rather impressive and the actual runic combinations is ingenious Harry."

"I've told you dad it's chemistry. The salts dissolve in the ink into their ionic components and blend together allowing each metal to add a portion of their ability to the ink. It's drastically cheaper then using raw precious metals like the rest of the world likes to use."

"Damn muggle science I've never gotten." Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry's father before she asked what had caught her attention.

"What about the Runes is ingenious exactly?"

"Oh most feather weight bags work on the principal of weight reduction. They either work by neutralizing earths gravity or on a similar principal to the shrinking charm. The former is more potent but more complicated while the latter can't handle as large a load. Harry's work here does neither."

"What exactly does his do?"

"His just adds a combination levitation/hover charm to the inside of the bag. Instead of trying to over come gravity with a charm he provides an opposing force that makes the bag feel as light as a feather when your holding it. If you were to swing the bag and hit somebody in the face with it it'd be like the charm wasn't there at all. The weight isn't decreased at all it but for everyday use it might as well be. That's why it's so ingenious. It's very simple but extremely effective for most uses."

"Is there a downside to the way he made it?"

"Oh very much so. The charm can't compensate for much more than ten to fifteen Kilograms of weight. Anything more than that and you yourself will have to compensate with your legs."

"So Mum, Dad, is there anyway you can get me out of this bed sometime today?" If Padfoot's laughter was anything to go by Harry's hopes of getting out to his broom for quidditch practice was not likely.

"Oh there's not a chance in hell of that happening Harry. I wouldn't recommend trying to sneak out either. Madam Pomfrey takes quite offense to that and you wouldn't be the first student she tied to their bed."

"Bugger it to hell." The near stereo correction from two of the ladies in the room gave everyone over the age of ten pause. Rose, far to lost in her beliefs that nothing could ever hurt her big brother, never noticed. " So Mum, Dad, anything else you want to talk about while I'm stuck in a bed all weekend?"

James and Lily shared a look between themselves communicating in a way that only husbands and wives of many years could. James opted to lead the conversation off." Well Harry now that you mention it there is one thing we've been meaning to talk to you and Rose about but we wanted to talk about it with you two together in person. Rose why don't you climb up next to Harry for a moment." Now being the children of a marauder both Rose and Harry knew, rather instinctively, when people were acting suspicious. The way their parents were acting was throwing up red flags faster than a ref at a Slytherin/Gryffindor quidditch match. Seeing her daughter next to her son Lily leaned forward and with a grin that would've made any marauder proud asked her question.

"How do you two feel about being a big brother and big sister?"


	14. Chapter 14:New Marauders and Old History

A/N: Thank you all for once again joining me on the journey following Harry and his family through what could have been.

For Justbin who was the only one to comment, as of when this was written, about Lily's biased view on the world of purebloods you are absolutely right. Furthermore it was done on purpose. I've never once claimed that any character I was writing was perfect. As a matter of fact I try and go out of my way to show their faults. I want you to put yourself in Lily's place and consider the following.

Based on the cannon story there has to be reason that before Halloween 1981 her parents aren't in the picture. Logically speaking wouldn't it make more sense to place Harry with two grandparents versus an aunt and cousin? Beyond that what kind of grandparent would allow their grandchild to be raised the way Harry was in cannon? The logical conclusion suggests that Lily's parents have passed on.

Based on Lily, and Petunia's, age their parents should have been between forty three and fifty five at the time of Lily's death in cannon. While those numbers are no where near exact their decent estimates I think. Now even on the high end fifty five is a rather young age for a couple to go on the next great adventure so to speak. It's perfectly possible that they died in an accident; but considering what Lily and her husband were doing after leaving Hogwarts it seems unlikely at best. Even if we give the death eaters the benefit of the doubt, which why on god's green earth would we do that, is Lily really going to believe that they had nothing at all to do with it?

This is all circumstantial evidence but it seems rather strange that all four of Harry's grandparents are dead before he turns two. Besides wouldn't that perfectly explain why Petunia had such a disdain for everything magical? And also why she was willing to deal with the magical world in return for her family's protection. These are the kind of thing's that would have made perfect sense in the cannon setting that were never brought up by J.K.R. in any of her books. A shame really.

So (my) Lily believes, wrongly or rightly, that her parents were likely murdered by blood supremacists and she herself fought those same purists who wanted her dead for no other reason then she was born. Now I ask you this. Is it any real wonder that Lily is perhaps a bit jaded and biased when it comes to the world she lives in? Can you say you wouldn't be under her circumstances? It happened to plenty of good men and women, through out history mind you, who went to war. They came home and they had a hard time dealing with the people who looked like, were related to, or sounded like the people they were fighting. For Lily it's purebloods and those who support the pureblood agenda. She's not bigoted to the point where she can't stand any pureblood but I think she would have a similar opinion of most purebloods as a Mossad agent would have Germans in 1960.

* * *

_Big fibbing kitty cat brother._

_You made chasing trolls sound like fun. Mummy and Daddy told me what really happened. How come you didn't tell me you got hurt so bad? You were hurt really bad. You were hurt so bad Mummy and Daddy were really scared. You promised you not lie to me but I guess you are a big fibbing promise breaking kitty cat brother. _

_Mad at you,_

_Sad Little Flower. _

Harry sat rereading the letter he'd gotten from his little sister again. Apparently she'd learned how to twist a knife in a wound just like their father loved to do when he was upset with someone. He really didn't mean to be dishonest with her. That wasn't the plan at all, he was just trying to protect her. How could he look at her and tell Little Flower that he'd been nearly bled to death from the beating he received at the hands of that troll.

Harry had received the letter from Rose several hours ago and apparently Hedwig had decided that misleading his little sister like that was a capital punishment. His own owl wouldn't even make eye contact with him and had snubbed him when he offered her bacon! Where was the justice in this? Harry readily admitted that he had sugar coated just about everything that happened but what good did giving the nearly seven year old girl night mares?

At least he had finally been cleared for visitors. After his family had left Madam Pomfrey had finally gotten everyone out of the hospital, despite Ms. Grangers protests. She had to threaten the girl with a weeks worth of detentions and a letter to her parents but she had reluctantly headed back to the dorms where she said she would let Neville know how he was doing. After his last set of diagnostic scans Harry had been informed that he'd be well enough for class on Monday and to a expect visit from his head of house. She apparently wanted to discuss something academic with him. Door to the hospital swung open to reveal the head lion with a pursed face as if she'd been forced to sit next to something that smelled of bad potions and grease.

"Mr. Potter."

"Yes Professor McGonagall?"

"First and foremost we are going to reach an understanding about your animagus shape and transformation."

"And what kind of understanding is that Professor?"

"If I ever discover that you have actually attacked, threatened, or intimated another student using your panther guise I will personally snap your wand and expel you from this school before the day is out. Are we clear Mr. Potter?" Well there wasn't any ambiguity in that threat. Nope none what so ever.

"Crystal Ma'am. Is there anything else I need to worry about? I know my Dad and Sirius had to register with the ministry eventually."

"Your parents are handling that headache. Seeing as how you are the first underage wizard in Britain to be reported with the ability to manifest the ability to turn into an animal I would imagine that you would have to register but they will likely waive the fine associated with having been unregistered."

"Oh that's good I'd have hated to have to sell myself off as indentured servant. Or worse my broom." Minerva raised an eyebrow and watched as the latest Potter under her care shivered while the thoughts of needing to sell his broom off sank into his rather thick skull. She wasn't sure what was more impressive; taking a head butt from a troll and trying to walk it off or being more stubborn then either of his parents. McGonagall of course meant that in the best way possible. The boy was likely the key to bringing back the Quidditch cup back to the lions.

"Mr. Potter what do you mean your dad and uncle Sirius eventually had to register with the ministry?"

"Oops." The stern gaze of Harry's head of house was unrelenting and despite not wanting to betray the Marauders secrets Harry was left with no other recourse. "Sirius and my dad managed their first shift somewhere between the end of their third year and the early part of their fourth." Each word seemed to lessen the blood flow to McGonagall's face.

How had she missed that? She had at least two wizards waltzing around the grounds transforming into animals at their hearts desire. And of all the students it had to be those two! "And what about Mr. Pettigrew?"

"Who?"

"Surely you've heard of Peter Pettigrew haven't you Mr. Potter? He was one of your father's closet friends while he was here at Hogwarts."

"Oh you mean the unnamed marauder. I've read all about him but I've never known his name. Shy pudgy guy who was a bit of a duffer with a wand?" Harry noticed the slight closing of Professor McGonagall's eyes before she nodded that the person Harry had dubbed the unnamed marauder indeed sounded like the boy Peter Pettigrew.

"How is you've never heard his name Mr. Potter."

"Well I was reading my dad's journals from his school days and I noticed that on almost every page there were words crossed out. And not just like crossed out with a single line through it, no I mean crossed out like somebody used a bottle of ink and broke a quill trying to make them impossible to read. When I went and asked my dad about it he told me the only thing I ever needed to know was to never trust a rat." Minerva was forced to sigh silently to herself. It was classic James Potter, petty and vindictive to the extreme. She knew that Peter had vanished after the end of the war and she had thought he had a falling out with the rest. She never knew it had been that bad. Whatever had happened the marauders had kept it very quiet. For James to have gone through seven years worth of journals and notes to eliminate any trace of the boys name Peter must have done something truly horrific.

"I see I'll have to schedule a meeting with them as well when I get a chance." Minerva drew her wand and with a subtle flick effortlessly conjured a chair next to Harry's bedside. "Mr. Potter do you mind if I dismiss with the formalities a bit and call you by your given name?"

Now this was a twist Harry hadn't expected. The threat on what would happen if he abused Shadow's form was expected. Honestly even warranted and professional. He could easily see himself, in a moment of anger, crushing Draco's windpipe between Shadow's jaws. However his head of house wanting to talk to him informally was strange at best. Harry was closer to nerve wracked if anyone was going to ask him how he felt about that. He'd always heard, and as far as he could tell was rightfully so informed, that McGonagall was a stickler for the rules and formalities. "If that's what you want Ma'am feel free."

"Very well Harry. As you surely recall from my demonstration in class at the beginning of the year I am an animagus as well. I took up the challenge to further my understanding and abilities within my craft and art. I very much see Transfiguration as an art Harry, I think you'll find most people who hold a mastery in their fields will say the same. For me becoming an animagus was nothing more than an intellectual and magical exercise. I enjoyed the challenge and the experience was deeply satisfying. The reason I asked to talk to you is because you are the youngest person I have ever heard of becoming an animagus."

Harry wasn't surprised at all that she'd never heard of anyone younger managing what he had done. It was a rather obscure art and to be perfectly honest it wasn't a skill that was all that useful outside of certain situations, honestly how many people had to fight off a mountain troll at the age of eleven? Granted a lot of it would depend on the animal form a person's spirit guardian would take and every form had it's own ups and downs. His dad had once tried transforming inside the house only to have his antlers knock several things off the walls, shelves, and the tables in the room. His mum had made the poor guy sleep on the couch for three days after that even though James had been able to put everything back together again with a simple charm. "So what is it you wanted to ask Ma'am?"

"Well for starters who brewed you the potion you had to take and where did you get the wand to manage the transfiguration?"

"Uh?" Harry and his teacher shared a look between them each asking if the other was crazy. "Professor McGonagall I never took a potion and I certainly did not ever use a wand."

"Harry I assure that you must have taken a potion to reveal your animal form and you must have used a wand to manage the highly complex self transfiguration. It's the only way. It's how I learned, it's the only ministry recognized procedure for becoming an animagus, and no other way has ever been reported."

"Sounds like the way Prongs and Padfoot forced this Peter chap to become an animagus. Either way I'm reporting a different way. I never took a potion, I never used a wand, and my dad and Sirius each only used one or the other not both."

This was something she had not been expecting. She hadn't even dreamed that they would be discussing alternate _procedures._ She had at most expected a different mindset or type of visualization, maybe even an additional potion to make the changes easier and more acceptable. Those were the types of advances she could see Lily making; from there it wasn't to hard to think Harry got a hold of her notes and had Sirius help pull them off. If Harry had gone to his godfather it wasn't all that hard to believe that Sirius would be a bit irresponsible and let him try. She had expected the differences to be a small thing like the difference between a bicycle and a tricycle. Instead she might as well have been talking about one of those fangled flying contraptions muggles had come up with. She'd have to try a different tactic if she was going to get any answers at all. "Harry becoming an animagus is seen as a deeply personal process, would you be comfortable sharing your experience with me?"

"Certainly ma'am." So he did. He told her about Prongs, Padfoot, their journals, and how they had shared information and ideas about the shift to an animal. He told her about how long it took and how often he practiced. He ended his story with how when he had proved his merit to Shadow the panther leaned forward so that their heads touched during his final meditative trance. The change for Harry happened the next moment smoothly, without pain, or hesitation. It wasn't fast or elegant. But it was natural. When Harry finished speaking the elder animagus looked at him as if he'd grown another head. He had even vaguely mentioned his increased senses that had come after the fact.

The first thing on Minerva's mind was making sure Harry wasn't suffering from some sort of mental breakdown. In over four decades of being able to turn into a feline she had never once experienced animal instincts or enhanced senses. If it she didn't know the boy better she'd say the boy had been possessed by a demon! Honestly enhanced muscles and animal like senses almost always came from some sort of ritual. "Harry you make it sound like you can talk to your animagus form as if it was a separate part of you. Are you sure that's what's really happening?"

Harry scrunched up his face at the implied question that wasn't asked. "Shadow is me and I am Shadow. He's like an awakened conscious. Imagine looking into a mirror that displays nothing but truth and finally seeing who you are. It's jarring, and shocking, and terrifying. But if you can look at yourself without any blinders or delusions of what and who you are you become stronger for it. That's what it was like when I first changed Professor. Like taking off a lead mask I didn't know I had been wearing."

"You have given me much to think upon Harry. If I have any further questions I will send for you. I'm sure you have a few visors who would like to visit with you before Madam Pomfrey releases you for class tomorrow." Professor McGonagall barely recognized sending in Ms, Granger or Mr. Longbottom into see Harry. Such were her thoughts so filled with things she had believed to be fact falling apart she barely remembered making it to her office.

It had always been theorized that the animagus ability had migrated back to England from the Americas. There the shamans, witch doctors, and the warriors were known to have an intimately closer relationship with nature and many of the things Harry had suggested he had experienced were referenced in their legends. If European wizards had merely bastardized what Harry had rediscovered then for how many years had Wizarding Europe unjustly assumed that becoming an animagus was near impossible? There was a degree of merit in Harry's story that suggested that was the case. Harry had spent over a thousand hours in meditation over a period of three years slowly "bonding" with his inner animal. For her she had spent a single year managing the self transfiguration after she had taken the potion. Was there something about the European shortcuts that caused the bonding with a person's inner animal to be weaker or out right fail?

Harry watched as Neville and Hermione entered the hospital wing as the chief lion was heading back towards her office. Harry was certain where he stood with Neville; the girl next to him not so much. Friendships, no matter the circumstances, weren't formed over night. Three things were certainly in her favor: whatever she had said to the professors had sprung them into action and because of that she was at least partially responsible for getting him the care he needed, his mother who was an excellent judge of character approved of her, and she wanted to help organize the prank on the Weasley boy. Harry didn't give out his trust easily or readily but with everything she had going in her favor he was more than willing to take a step of faith with her.

"Harry how come you never told me you were an animagus? You've been coming over to my house for years and I had to find out from the Hogwarts gossip chain via Lavender Brown. It's all over the school Harry." Neville was rightfully upset that he hadn't found something of that magnitude out from the source. Guys may not expect to hear things as soon as they happen but they do expect to hear them from the source.

"It was a present Neville. That's why I never told you I spent three years mediating for an hour or two every night. Because by doing so I could learn to change into an animal at will which would let me give my uncle Remus a gift that nothing else could ever match."

Here Hermione was more than a bit curious. What did turning into an animal have to do with giving a present? Surely if the nice quite uncle she'd meet the other day was in need of a pet they could'v picked him up a dog without any effort. Hermione was no stranger to self made gifts, regardless of what they were they always seemed more special. Something just between two people that they could always treasure. For Harry to speed that much time on a gift showed the boy in front of her in a different light. However her curiosity would not be sated without some sort of understanding. "And what's that Harry."

"Companion ship on the worst nights of his life. He's a werewolf." The shocked silence was all the silence Harry needed to here. "He's not a bad guy, or a dark creature, or evil. He's just a guy who's sick on one night every month and loses the ability to maintain rational thought. Having a pack that he can identify with helps him stay calm and it makes it easier on him. That's why I became an animagus. Back when he was here at Hogwarts my dad and uncle Sirius learned to how change into animals so they could keep him company during full moons. I wanted to do the same."

Hermione was forced to turn around and face the wall as she fought back a set of tears. If there had ever been any doubt about her doing everything in her power to be Harry Potter's friend it was gone now. She could appreciate what Harry had done for his uncle in a way not everyone could. Feeling alone was a terrible emotional disease. It crippled you, left you wondering why you fought so hard, and left you drained. There was only a single treatment for it. A treatment Harry had provided it. Hermione would have given anything for a friend like that; she could take solace in books and hide in facts. But at night when she was alone her thoughts and loneliness still came back to haunt her. Hermione could only hope that the boy in the bed would be willing to go even a tenth as far for her. "You're a good person Harry, that must have been a moment he treasures very much."

"Exactly Hermione. It's why I didn't tell anyone about my ability. How could I ever explain it without bringing up Remus and his furry little problem?" Neville suppressed a laugh while Hermione huffed indignantly. As if being diagnosed with an incurable chronic illness was a slight problem." You've been around him Neville, which in itself says something, have you ever felt in danger or threatened by him?"

"No I haven't Harry."

"And you Hermione, did you ever get any evil vibes when you were around him this weekend?

"Of course not Harry. He seemed very kind and compassionate with the way he was dealing with your little sister."

"And do either of you think my parents would leave me alone with a tutor who would ever actually be a threat to me?" They both answered that his parents of course wouldn't. "I'm glad you two get that. I a lot of people don't. Remus has had it really hard. People take one look at him and they don't see the man he is, they see their fears and their prejudice beliefs. All he's ever really had was the marauders."

"Harry your mum told me that if I wanted to know what the marauders were I'd have to ask you, do you mind sharing?" Harry looked at her momentarily as if weighing his options in his mind.

"The marauders are a band of brothers. A fraternity of sorts if you will. They protect one another, they are there for one another no matter what, they'd go through hell and back for each other, and back when things were bad they were willing to die so the others would live a moment longer. My dad is Prongs, Sirius is Padfoot, Remus is Moony, and I'm Shadow. Each of the names comes from our animal forms. A stag, a grim, a panther, and of course a werewolf."

"They weren't just pranksters. They were a means of fighting back against a society that they didn't like. When they were here at school bullies had no qualms about picking on the younger kids. It wasn't uncommon to here people being called mudbloods and halfbreeds back then. According to one of my dad's journals from his early years at school he heard my mum get called a "filthy mudblood" over thirteen times in one week."

"I guess not much has changed then has it." The look exchanged between the two spoke volumes.

"Maybe not. The marauders were a means of fighting back. Sometimes they'd go around causing havoc and mayhem just because they could. Sometimes it was as a cover for something bigger. However most of the time it was for justice, payback for those who couldn't protect themselves. That's what the marauders were when they were in school Hermione."

"Did they succeed Harry?"

"They made a lot of people's lives a living hell while they were here. I don't know if they ever actually managed to change anything. As you can tell things haven't changed that much. Maybe things are less extreme now then what they were then but there was a dark lord active at the time. It's hard to say who made a real difference; Neville or the marauders.

"Harry you know I didn't do anything."

"Whatever you say Mr. Boy-who-lived."

"Harry you know I hate that bloody title. It took gran months to get that shite sorted out and get the credit where it was due."

"I know Neville." Harry shifted his eyes towards the only girl in the group planning on making a drastic subject change. "Hey Hermione what was it like for you growing up?" Make no mistake, Harry did very much want to hear Hermione's answer. However Harry had a plan and part of that plan involved hearing about Hermione's past.

Hermione allowed her head to drop and her eyes to find the floor. There were things she'd rather not talk about but she hoped she'd be able to gloss over them without the boys catching on. "Well my parents are dentists and we live in Crawley. They run their own practice so I don't get to see as much as them as I'd like. During the summers they did their best to schedule the their appointments on opposite days so one of them could at least spend part of the day at home with me but that wasn't always possible. Even when they were home they had a lot of paperwork and things to manage so I spent a lot of my time reading. I got my love of reading from my mum, this horrible rat's nest of hair came from my father's side of the family. I took piano lessons in the afternoon and I loved school of course, but that shouldn't be of any surprise."

"Not really Hermione. Any little siblings that will be attending Hogwarts in the future Hermione?"

"No Harry. I'm an only child so I'm the only know it all you have to deal with for the foreseeable future."

"What about cousins."

"Sadly both my parents were only children. No aunts or uncles or cousins for me what so ever."

"What your friends from school?" Seeing her eyes flicker to the floor Harry realized he had hit a soft spot with the girl.

For Hermione it was the one thing she didn't want to discuss. But Harry had asked and it wasn't like she had a horrible life growing up. "I didn't have a lot of friends Harry. A lot of the girls made fun of me because of the way I look. Once people realized nobody was going to stop them the boys started doing the same thing. Combine that with some of the strange things that happened around me and I didn't get to make or keep many friends. After they started knocking books out of my hands I learned to stay near the teachers. Nobody did anything when the teachers were near by so that's where I felt safe. Either next to a teacher or in my daddy's arms." By this point Hermione's arms were wrapped around herself much like a blanket.

Neville was forced to sigh to himself. He could very much relate to Hermione's childhood. He sent a glare at Harry knowing what his good friend had done and why he had done it. Harry flashed a cheeky grin back at him knowing what Neville was thinking. Pity that Harry knew him well enough to know that Neville's sense of fair play wouldn't let him be the only one who hadn't shared a story. "Hermione How much have you read about the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

Switching gears back to the academic was so second nature to the girl she hadn't even noticed she had done it. "I've read several books actually, all of which you and your family have large roles but none of them can really seem to agree on anything."

"Yeah well that's about the only thing anyone can agree on. Nobody knows what happened on that Halloween night. What I can tell you is that I didn't leave Longbottom Manor for the next five years. And nobody else was allowed to come over. My Gram is very much overprotective Hermione. I didn't know anybody except my grandmother, my body guards, and the headmaster until I meet Harry and his mum."

"Took my mum five years to talk his Gran into letting us know the address where they lived."

"After that Harry was over at my house once or twice a week, but he was really the only one that was ever allowed to come visit. After she found out that You-Know-Who killed my Dad and Mum she kind of went a little crazy. I swear she sunk half the Longbottom vault into upgrading the manor's wards. Even placed the house under a charm where nobody could find it unless one of the aurors told them where it was. I had a tracking charm on all my clothes and a pair of bodyguards around me all the time; a hit wizard and an auror with a pair of each on standby or sleeping."

"But why would she do all of that?"

"She was afraid. She had lost her only child and the only thing she had left was me. I don't think she cared about anything other than making sure I was safe. I never touched a broom or anything that was even remotely dangerous. Even getting all the tools for my greenhouse was a fight Hermione. I didn't understand why she did all of these things, all I knew was that she wanted me to be kept safe no matter what. I remember this one time she came home from visiting her brother madder than anything I had ever seen. Apparently he had casually suggested dropping me out a window to see if I would bounce. It's the only time I can remember ever hearing my grandmother use "foul language". She actually hexed him so bad they had to send him to the spell reversal department of the hospital."

Neville paused for a moment as he collected his bearings for what he wanted to say. "I went to my first social gathering a month after I turned seven. Do you remember that Harry?"

"Yeah I remember Nev, the end of summer feast at the Abbots right?"

"Yeah that was the one Harry. Anyway me and my gran get there and all of a sudden I'm being told I'm a great wizard and how I defeated a terrible evil wizard. I spent half the night hiding next to Harry confused out of my mind. Even than I was to afraid to go to my gran, she'd have taken me straight home and even if I was confused I didn't want to leave. When we got home that night I asked her how come I didn't know I was a great wizard. She slapped me so hard across the face I actually fell backwards on to my bum. It was the only time she was ever angry with me or even cross for that manner." Neville's breath caught in his throat for a moment. " She asked me if I liked being an orphan. If I liked the fact that my parents were dead. I was so stunned and shocked I couldn't do anything but shake my head that no I did not in fact like being an orphan. She asked me if I was such a great and powerful wizard how come I watched my dad and mum die when I could'v so easily stopped that monster when he came into the house. I've never seen her look at me with contempt before that day, or since either. She told me that trying to take credit for somebody else's sacrifice was a horrible, despicable thing to do and that I should be ashamed of myself. She told me that my mum was an amazing witch and my dad was a great wizard each of whom had found a way to keep me safe from that monster at the cost of their own lives."

"She fought tooth and nail to get them the they deserved Hermione. Even got them a statue in the attruim of the ministry. A life size replica of them holding an infant with the words "The-Parents-Who-Saved" carved under their feet. She spent months fighting with stupid reporters trying to destroy the moniker they had tagged me with. The damage had been done of course, some people still look at me like I'm some sort of hero. I'm just a kid with a scar who didn't die. The night my gran slapped me Hermione she told me something I will never forget. She told me there were very few thing she'd have zero tolerance for, but at the top of the list was dishonoring my parents."

"It sounds harsh. I can't tell you how long I cried that night Hermione. But I understand why she was hard me. I didn't do anything that night, I've never even had a lot of accidental magic, why would I deserve to be treated special for something that just happened?"

The three friends sat there for a moment of silence. Hermione and Neville looking to Harry while he looked back and forth between the two. His dad had once said that his mother suffered from an undiscovered disease that forced her to try and help anyone or anything that was hurting. Well unless of course she was the cause of their hurting; Prongs had claimed that the disease had no effect what so ever on her temper. Harry was convinced that the whole idea was pure rubbish. Clearly it was genetic disorder because he had no intention of allowing either of his two friends to go back to their lonely existence.

"Harry if we're going to do a prank on Ron I want to make something perfectly clear."

"What's that Hermione?"

"This isn't just about petty revenge. It's about teaching a lesson. I think preventing another girl from crying in the bathroom is something worth doing."

Neville leaned forward to add his thoughts. "If you two want to teach a Ron a lesson than it will have to be something big. More importantly you're going to need someone to calm him down and explain it to him in a way he can understand. That part I can handle."

"Hermione if your serious about this I think were going to need some help."

"What kind of help are you talking about Harry?"

"Intelligence. Logistics. Set up, delivery, execution. Maybe some charm work depending on what's required."

"And where do you intend to find that kind of help Harry?

"I was thinking about talking to a pair of human bludgers."


	15. Chapter 15: Quidditch and Life Lessons

A/N: Don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it. Just a heads up chapter one has been reposted with the battle of Longbottom Manor. I felt kind of bad that Frank and Alice didn't put up a fight and it was the only chance I'd get to play with their characters. I also hopefully made a few minor tweaks to the story that will improve it a bit.

* * *

The following week brought the first quidditch match of the season for Hogwarts. Ever since his first flying lesson Harry and the team's captain had not been seeing eye to eye on what Harry's role would be. McGonagall herself had slated the boy into the seeker position, when nobody else had bothered showing up for the tryouts, and Wood had insisted Harry do nothing but care for finding the snitch. The first time Harry had heard that he had laughed in his captains face.

It would be an understatement to say Harry didn't like the seeker position. That would be like saying Draco Malfoy didn't like muggles. No Harry absolutely despised his spot on the team. He'd been to several games over the years, he was a slight follower of Puddlemere United after all, but almost every seeker he'd ever seen play was dreadfully boring.

There were of course a myriad of ways a team strategy could take on all depending on the skills of the people on the brooms. A strong goal keeper usually allowed for the chaser line and the beaters to devote more time to working offensive plays. The chaser line's tactics could vary between high speed passing, breakaway runs, or formation flying and range from an acrobatic style of flying to a head on brute muscle approach. Even the beaters could've course change the aspect of the game based on who they were targeting and how accurate they were.

Harry's problem with being a seeker came down to a few small issues he had with the game. Quidditch was a high speed game between two teams, teams that honestly had no need for either seeker in the first place. A seeker wasn't involved in any plays, they didn't help score any goals, they didn't bother to defend their own posts, and almost a third of all bludgers had to be dodged by a seeker. In short being a seeker was a kin to being a very bored moving target.

A seeker's job was to catch a ball that may or may not show up at any undeclared time anywhere on the field. Until the snitch showed up nine out of ten seekers flew around above the game looking for something the size of a walnut while watching their teams play. The most any normal seeker would ever do is try and plant the teams opposing seeker into the ground with a high speed diving feint. And yet at the end of nearly every game it was a seeker who was being lifted into the air. Beyond that, much like everything else in Harry's life, he had wanted to follow in his parents footsteps.

James had been a chaser. Harry wanted to be a chaser. Harry was stuck being a seeker. Harry wanted to be in the action and seekers normally were left out of the game until the end. A seeker was simply everything that Harry didn't want to be. But if Harry was going to be a seeker he was going to do it on his terms. He was going to be one of those crazy one in ten seekers that had the shortest careers and took the highest risks. It was the least accepted strategy for any seeker in any of the leagues because in short the seeker wasn't seeking. Instead they were attacking.

Maybe it was the animal in Harry that liked the idea of being constantly on the attack and creating strife for the opposing team. Maybe it was the prankster blood that ran through his veins that loved the idea of leaving chaos everywhere he flew. Whatever it was after weeks of arguing Oliver Wood had accepted that Harry could not be kept on the side lines.

Part of being a good captain was knowing how to utilize the people and resources for the betterment of your team. Trying to force a person to become something they inherently weren't't was a recipe for disaster. You could change the way they did things, you could groom them out of bad habits and into good ones, but you could not change something ten years in the making. Asking Harry to stay out of the action would have been like asking him to write his homework assignments and cast spells with his other hand. In theory he would be able do it but it'd be ugly and he'd hate every minute of it.

Walking out on to the pitch Harry was treated with the results of this morning's prank. He'd even sold it as a display of house spirit to Hermione so she hadn't even tried to interfere. Harry was forced to consider just how remarkably talented those twins were. That and how effective house elves could be with a kind word to motivate them. He was absolute rubbish with potions but those two had managed to create a potion that would change a person's hair color based on their gender. Thus Harry was treated to the sight of every girl in Gryffindor having shimmering golden hair while all the boys had flaming scarlet hair. Likewise the Slytherin section was modeling silver and emerald hair. The only thing better for Harry then Draco scowling over his emerald hair was the sight of the Potter family coming to see their first born in his first quidditch match.

The four Gryffindor alumni rejoined their old house in the bleachers each wide eyed at the sea of their house colors on display. It was such a wonderful display of support that each of the three men didn't even stop to consider how they'd all look with blazing scarlet hair as they whipped out their wands and matched the colors perfectly. Luckily none of them were insane enough to actually point their wands at either of the two girls but that didn't mean they didn't't consider it. Lily didn't even have to tell them not to, a simple narrowing of the eyes and each of them had their wands back in their holsters without so much as blinking.

Lily quickly lead her daughter and children trapped in adult bodies over to the only two people she was actually aware of. While she had no qualm about supporting her son and watching him play quidditch that didn't mean she didn't find the horrid game horribly boring. If she was going to sit here for Merlin knows how many hours she was at least going to have somebody to talk to with an IQ over 130. For reasons the DoM still hadn't worked out anyone with a penis seemed to have their intelligence at least halved any time they were in the presence of a sporting event. However on the rare occasion where it happened girls had a perfectly rational and well understood reason if their IQ took a sudden plummet at these gatherings: excess alcohol and pheromones effecting their judgment.

Sitting down next to her fellow bookworm she was pleased to see a book in the girls hands. "Hello Neville, Hermione, how are you today."

Without missing a beat the younger witch replied with a simple "I'm blond." Indeed the girl, and every other girl in the lion section of the stands, was blond. She hadn't noticed it from a distance but not every person's hair matched perfectly. The shades were all correct but the tones of the colors varied based on what she assumed was the person's natural hair color. It was clear who the natural blonds were and those who had their hair changed for the match. Hermione's was far from the darkest but it was certainly on the darker scale of blond; a dark honey blond if she had to guess. On the opposite end of the spectrum was a girl who was sitting in the front row with bright shimmering gold hair that shined with the sun. Lily could only wonder what her and Rose's hair would've looked like if she had been here when this was done. Neville had been dragged into a conversation with the boys.

"Yes you and every other girl here are most definitely blond. Tell me was this my son's doing?"

"His and the Weasley twins. I think it was his idea but they were the one's who put the potion together."

"Strange. So what book are you reading Hermione."

"Oh it's just a book on quidditch."

"Why on heaven's earth would you want to read about this silly game." Lily didn't bat an eye as she ignored her husband's wounded outcry.

"Oh I just wanted to actually try and understand what the big deal is."

"Hermione if you figure that out you're a smarter witch than me. Best I can tell it's a silly game for silly wizards who couldn't take the time to make a game that makes sense."

Down on the pitch the two captains were shaking hands despite the glares from the green haired team. Moments later the game had begun and the Slytherin lead chaser was in possession of the quaffle after a cheap shot on Katie Bell caused her to lose control of the red leather bound ball. What Flint hadn't expected was a dive bombing Harry Potter to pass within two feet of his head causing him to swerve into Alicia's flight path where she took the quaffle out of his hands. This scene would repeat itself again and again throughout the course of the match. Thrice Higgs had tried to mark Harry only to fly directly into his own teams patterns disrupting their formations and costing them control of the quaffle.

Harry knew he was pushing the limits of the rules. While contact was permitted 'flying with the intent to collide' wasn't. It was a rather arbitrary ruling which would vary from official to official with little to no written guidance. Generally speaking so long as he wasn't making head on high speed impacts, grabbing an opposing broom, or striking with his elbows he wasn't likely to get a penalty called on him. Shame for the Slytherin team that left a lot of wiggle room for Harry to work with.

Harry would make a corkscrewing dive turning directions at the last moment where he would impact with his back against an opposing chaser's side before rolling over and around them. These high speed strafing runs were often followed up by a bludger from one of the four beaters on the field. At first the emerald clad beaters thought that it would be an excellent time to remove the smaller seeker from the game. After all he was clashing with larger and stronger fliers that should have been able to keep him in place. Shame no one bothered to mention that the boy was lightning fast and agile enough to roll around other players leaving the Slytherin chasers no time to react to the balls of iron.

Such was the combined defensive barrage of bludgers and human missile that the quaffle only crossed the center line into Gryffindor territory twelve times during the course of the game. Harry would fly a shifting three dimensional figure eight pattern while corkscrewing and barrel rolling at and in between players. Most of the time it was merely to force the opposing team to flinch and change their direction, some of the time it was to conceal a well hit bludger in a blind spot he would create. And yet others it was to make an impact with a shoulder or tail of a broom to force a person into a spin. Had it not been for the protective gear and charms on the field Madam Pomfrey would have seen every last member of the Slytherin quidditch team that day.

The reason the offensive seeker was such a rarity on a quidditch pitch was the very reason it worked so well for the lions against the snakes. It was a matter of coordination and teamwork. The twins were not only two exceptional beaters but they knew each other better than anyone else. Likewise the Gryffindor chaser line relied on each other and worked like a well honed Swiss watch. The snakes on the other hand depended on strong arm tactics and running their opponents over with brute force. Had the twins been less in tune with each other or the Slytherin line more cohesive Harry's style of play would have been drastically weakened.

Higgs while being a competent seeker and a fair flier wasn't capable of matching the speed of Harry's nimbus nor was he able to match the boys inherent maneuverability or reflexes. More importantly he wasn't crazy or dumb enough to try half the idiocy that Potter was pulling off. Even trying to mark him was hazardous to his health; a fact he had found out after flying head first into one of his own beaters.

Up in the stands another Potter wasn't enjoying the game in the slightest. Nor was her husband enjoying the beating he was getting with the book Lily had taken from Hermione's hands. "YOU TOLD ME HE WAS GOING TO BE SAFE."

"He's a seeker Lily! He isn't supposed to be flying like that."

Another blow from a book landed on James shoulder before Lily was turning to Sirius. "Listen up mutt I swear to whatever higher power is out there if I find out you were teaching my son to be that reckless I'm going to cover every inch of you with ticks and fleas." Hermione and Neville for their parts were watching locked in a mix of terror and awe as their best friend appeared to be trying to fulfill a death wish.

On and on the beating went. Fifteen minutes into the game even if Harry missed the snitch the game would have went to the lions. Twenty minutes later Higgs would have needed to find two snitches to even break even with the lions. By the forty minute mark every snake on the field had swollen black eyes, were clutching their ribs to stop the sharp pains that each breath caused, and anything red moving their way caused rapid fear inspired deviations from their flight plans. Five minutes before the ending of the hour Harry found himself staring at his hand. Apparently the snitch had seen enough of a thrashing for one day and at sought him out to settle in his hand awarding the lions an additional hundred and fifty points.

As Harry was landing he was set upon by the entirety of his quidditch team. The girls had flown together wonderfully and the twins bludger work was a simple display of mastery. Oliver's part in the game had been so redundant that he could've taken dreamless sleeping potion before the game and not had missed anything. Harry, despite enjoying the on field celebration, was slowly working his way towards the stands looking for his parents when he was suddenly forced backwards two steps. Looking down he found himself looking into the tear filled hazel eyes adorned by vibrant red hair. Kneeling down to her eye level and tucking her hair behind her ear he finally opened his mouth hoping he wouldn't stick his foot in it this time. "Little Flower what's wrong?"

"I's scared."

"What were you scared of Rose?"

"I wrote you that mean letter calling you bad names and then you go out there and fly with a death wish and Mummy was yelling at daddy and uncle Padfoot and I thought you were going to get hurt and I didn't even get to tell you I was sorry."

"You don't have to apologize to me Little Flower."

"Yes I do I was mean!"

"No you don't Rose. You were only mean because you were mad that you caught Big Kitty in a fib right?" Getting a Nod from the girl Harry pressed on. "The only reason I didn't tell you what happened was because I was trying to protect you. That's a big brothers most important job; to protect little sisters. I didn't want you getting nightmares while I wasn't there to help chase them away. Can you tell me why Mummy and Daddy told you what really happened?"

"I said we should go find a troll for me to beat up like you did." Harry felt like his heart had skipped a beat as horrible images he never wanted to consider flashed across his eyes. Either it was the widening of Harry's eyes, the paling of his face, or the sharp intake of breath that caught Rose's attention. Harry didn't care what it was that worked. All that he cared about was that he had her undivided attention. "Roselyn Hope promise me that if you ever see a troll you will run away as fast as you can."

"But I alre..."

"Promise me Rose." Harry spat out cutting off the girl in front of him.

Nodding her head the little red haired girl whispered "I promise."

"Good." Standing up he was embraced by his father and rewarded with bruise causing pats on the back from his uncles.

"Hell of a bit of flying out there Harry."

"Thanks dad. Is there a reason Hermione and Mum are glaring at me like that?" Harry winced as Hermione's book found it's way back to her hands and into his shoulder.

"Harry Potter do you have a death wish! Or were you just born lacking any sense of self preservation! What is wrong with you! Was winning a stupid game worth trying to kill your mother with a heart attack? I have never seen such a reckless abandonment of common sense for something so feeble." With each sentence Harry found himself under assault from the blond bookworm's book. Despite the speed at which the girl was rambling out her complaint there was no weight behind any of what she was doing.

Judging from the laughter of his three male role models they were going to be useless anytime in the near future. Shooting a desperate plea for help to his mother Harry could tell by the mischievous grin on her face that he would be sorely disappointed. "Now Harry why would I do anything to help? I think Ms. Granger has everything perfectly in hand. Please Hermione do continue." Harry was forced to duck and avoid another half hearted swipe from what was luckily the smallest book he had ever seen in Hermione's hands

Ducking behind an approaching set of twins Harry was relived to finally be safe from his friend's reprisals. "Now Now Hermione we can't have you knocking out the youngest seeker in a century after his first game. No No that just wouldn't be right now would it brother of mine?"

"And what kind of beaters would we be if we let our wonderful seeker down when he needed protection. Even if it is protection from the fairer sex."

"True True George and after this game I think he will need quite a bit of protection from the softer more gentle gender." Seeing the glint in Sirius eyes Harry acted without hesisation to head off the direction of the conversation before his dog father got in on the fun. "Mr. Fred and George Weasley may I introduce you to my lovely mother Lily , my little sister Roselyn , and your idols Mr. Prongs, Mr. Padfoot, and Mr. Moony." Moments Later three full grown men were trying to drag two red headed third year Gryffindors across the pitch who had attached themselves to their legs with everything except a permanent sticking charm.

* * *

The end of term was rapidly approaching bringing the Christmas break and the holidays ever closer. Hermione had delayed the plans concerning Ron twice now, the first time because she hadn't wanted to cause a scene after the quidditch victory and the second because she had started second guessing herself. This wasn't something she was particularly fond of and ran counter to the way she had been brought up.

Hermione's issue was Ron was with the boy's intention. Ron wasn't a bad kid. Ron wasn't evil. Ron hadn't set out to make her cry and to nearly die at the hands of a troll. It had been the crux of Hermione's problem with the marauders brand of justice. Logically speaking she knew it had been an accident and after she had calmed down enough to rationalize it she didn't know if it warranted punishment of the magnitude they had planned. It had been a letter from Lily of all people that put things back in perspective.

Lily had asked Hermione what would've happened have happened if her parents made a mistake while using the anesthesia at their office. The elder witch had asked what would've happened if her mother had run a red light and accidentally collided with another car. She went on to ask what would happen if Hermione forgot to feed a hamster before her family went on holiday. All of those things were accidents that could happen without any intention to do harm at all. More importantly they were all mistakes that carried with them consequences. The consequence could be anything from a death, a lawsuit, a traffic fine, or being grounded for her or jail time for her parents. Lily's final question to the younger witch was if Ron had seen any consequences from what he had done that night in nearly the month that had passed or if the boy had even bothered to apologize.

When taken under that light with that reasoning Hermione had swallowed her hesitation and accepted what was looking her in the eye. A great playwright once wrote _"Time is the justice that examines all offenders"(1)_ . She had waited to see what would be done, hoping that her faith in authority would be rewarded. If Ron Weasley was going to be a jerk to her and nobody was going to do anything about than she would accept that the balance of justice needed to be answered.

The plan was simple and elegant and had a simple duality about it. The only real difference was that Ron wasn't going to be in any real danger. But he'd certainly think he was. The twins and herself had managed the spell work while Harry managed his part with his regular creativity. The materials where all in place and the next time Ron hit the middle of his bed everything would trigger.

* * *

Ron Weasley was mad. He'd been insulted and demeaned and that bloody know it all had stated in no uncertain terms that the only reason Neville or anyone else was his friend was because they were taking pity on him! Honestly how dare she say that he must have been a disappointment to his family and lacked any degree of manners. Then she had giggled and bounced up the stairs to the girls dorm like nothing had happened! And than the twins and Percy had started in on him! For the twins it was their own brand of humor which had been followed by Percy's stinging rebuke about how he had wasted an entire term bringing dishonor to the family trying to prove he was Hogwarts chess champion instead of putting some efforts into his academics. He didn't even know there was chess champion at Hogwarts! And just like every time when he was mad at home and didn't know what else to do he threw himself on to his bed.

That's when it happened. He didn't even know what happened. One moment he was throwing himself unto his bed the same way he had done a hundred times at home and the next he was being dragged through the air into the underside of the bed's canopy. That's when the real hell started for the freckle faced ginger. " HELP! OH GOD SOMEBODY GET THESE SPIDERS OFF ME."

The moment Ron had impacted the canopy of the bed a swarm of small pink spiders had started crawling from the corners of his bed and all over his arms and legs of his robes. Flailing and smashing his hands against his body was doing nothing to deter the spiders as they were making their way across his body from one side of the bed to the other. Back and forth his hands flew without any concern of where they were striking. Several times he smacked himself in across the face and once far closer to his own set of twins than he was comfortable with.

Thirty seconds later he was falling, flailing, and screaming. The later two of which he had never stopped doing. Bouncing on the mattress to his bed Ron jumped with all the force he could muster away from the bed and spiders to the nearest wall only to hear snickering at the door to the dorm. "DID YOU THINK THAT'S FUNNY?"

Harry and Hermione shared a look with each other before they turned their heads back to the red headed Gryffindor. Hermione briefly closed her eyes before opening them again. "The flailing and jumping around was funny yes. The rest of it was more of an ironic karma balancing act."

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You made fun of me after I tried to help you in class. Because of that I nearly died at the feet of a troll. A handful of people made fun of you and you ended up throwing a fit which ended with you scared like a little girl at the feet of a bunch of fake spiders. The only real difference Ronald is that I could and should have died and the worst that could've happened to you is a sore throat from imitating a banshee." And there it was. Elegant. Karmic. Balance. Without another word she left the room without looking back. Harry stayed just long enough to know that Ron wasn't going to try and do anything stupid before looking over at Neville who had been there the whole time. With a nod to each other Harry turned and left the room just as silently.

"You knew they were going to do this didn't you?"

"Yeah Ron I did."

"Why didn't you tell me! I thought we were friends Neville."

"We are Ron."

"Then why didn't you tell me."

"The same reasons the twins didn't tell you."

"They were in on this?"

"Yeah they helped set most of it up. Between teaching Harry and Hermione some of the sticking charms and enlarging the rubber spiders so Harry could draw the movement runes on them I'd say they helped set half of it up."

"But I'm their brother! How could they take their side over mine."

"The four of them thought you deserved it."

"I didn't deserve anything!"

Neville was on his feet and had moved within an arms reach of Ron before he resumed speaking. "You nearly got a girl KILLED Ron. Not hurt. Not Crying. Not in trouble. DEAD! Had Harry not gone for her that's exactly what she would be. As it was Harry spent the weekend in the hospital wing getting treated for his wounds. "

"That was an accident I didn't mean for it to happen."

"Did you even bother to tell her, or him for that matter, you were sorry Ron?" Ron's downcast expression was all the answer Neville needed. "Ron what would you have done if that had been Draco Malfoy talking about Ginny like that and she was the one who could have died in the bathroom?"

"I'd have hexed in half. But it's..."

"But it's just Hermione right Ron? Does that maker her less important Ron? Does that make her less worth defending or more acceptable to insult? Is it OK to insult her and not apologize for it because she's not your sister and can't or won't run to your mother? Is that how your mother raised you? "

"Well..."

"Of course it isn't Ron. You screwed up mate. Own up to and make it right. That's why Harry, the twins, and Hermione did all this. So you'd understand what your words and actions caused. That's why I'm here explaining it to you. " With a deep sigh Neville regained his composure and continued slower and quieter than he had been before. "You're not a bad guy Ron, and nobody thinks you're evil. But you are a jerk and you have got to learn how to treat people better than what you do."

Ron sat down sighing on a bed not covered in pink spiders. "I'm not that bad am I Neville?"

"Ron I think you have managed to insult or belittle every other house in the school and half the muggle born in our own house without trying or meaning to. Dean and his posters, we don't need to revisit Hermione, the snakes might deserve most of it, but can you say the same about the puff's and claws? What have they ever done to you?"

"I don't know. It's just, I don't know, it's like it's how I was raised. I mean I remember hearing all these stories for as long as I can remember. You-know-who is evil and so are all his snake followers. Claws weren't good or anything but doing research and homework because they never did anything in the war. It was always the lions who did all the fighting. Hell I remember hearing stories about you for years from my mum Neville."

"Ron..."

"I get it Nev. It was your parents, not you but that doesn't change how I grew up does it?"

"I guess it doesn't Ron. Listen you'd be a great guy if you used your head for something other than chess, quidditch and exploding snap. God knows you've beaten all the first and second years in the tower and half the third years. My gran is an old gossip and knows all about what the different families are doing and what their children go into. She told me that your oldest brother is a curse-breaker for the goblins and was Head Boy when he was here. Your brother that just graduated was quidditch captain and is now working with dragons isn't he?"

"Yeah I've got his old wand."

"Percy is a prefect who might be on his way to being Head Boy and you know how devious and innovative the twins can be. Nobody else in your family lacks potential Ron and I can't see you being the first. But if you're not going to try and put forth the effort to accomplish anything you have no right to talk bad about those who do. Percy and Hermione are always studying something for class. I don't think Harry's wand has left his hand for more then five minutes unless he was sleeping ,showering, or eating. The twins are constantly trying to invent something new and the only class that comes naturally to me is Herbology. Do you think either of your brothers got where they are by playing chess and talking about quidditch all day?"

"No Charlie and Bill busted their tails while they were here and even when they came home for the holidays they didn't't play around as much as the rest of us."

"Why don't you write to them and ask how they got where they are. You and your three brothers are staying here over the holidays; talk to Percy, Fred, and George. They are your brothers if you ask for their help they'll give it. The twins might torture you a bit first but they'll help you in the end."`

"You think I should talk to them?"

"Yeah I do Ron. And a piece of advice, if you wouldn't say something in front of your mum or dad than you probably shouldn't say it in the common room or in the middle of the hallways. Either way mate you've got a lot of thinking to do while everyone's gone." Ron couldn't argue with that. Already he was thinking of what he wanted to write to Bill. He was always the coolest of his brothers and was the most successful so far. If anyone could tell him the secret to success it would be him.

* * *

A/N Sorry about getting long winded in the A/N of the story. I'll try and cut back on them a bit so they aren't taking anything from the story. On that Note I have poll up and running for the story. It's there to let me know what part of the story is weak and needs work with my writing. If I ever figure out how to post a second poll I'll add one to track what people think I'm doing write. I am actively looking for a Beta reader so hopefully the quality of the writing will start to rise. Thanks for reading and until next time.

Exwolf


	16. Chapter 16: Four Holidays

A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or the characters.

I would like to say thank you to Eliizilla for her work as a beta reader. I'd also like to thank everyone who is reading, enjoying, following or has reviewed the story.

I also feel the need to apologize for the delay in getting this chapter out and into the story. My only justification is that this chapter is two and half times larger then any chapter I have previously written and that I hope this is one of my best chapters yet.

Four Holidays

* * *

Coming off the Hogwarts express where the three friends had spent the trip keeping to themselves and staying out of trouble they were greeted by the sites of their families. Neville seeing his gran speaking slowly in her formal language that took twice as long to say something that most people couldn't follow to begin with. Hermione seeing her parents locked into a look of wonder standing off to the side alone trying not to stand out and failing horribly. The first hint that they didn't really belong were their tourist faces, their lack of robes and wizarding attire was a strong second. Harry was treated to the sight of his uncles and father wearing tie-dyed robes and his little sister wearing the same grin his father loved to sport. Next to them was his mother scowling at the display of the four. Harry pulled his two companions close to him before whispering what Hermione assumed would be one of his hair brained schemes that he often came up with on the spur of the moment. She was gleefully surprised when instead she heard something she very much agreed with and instantly began looking forward to. The three broke for their respective targets with a fledgling plan having just been hatched.

Making his way over to his family Harry took one look on the not-innocent-at-all face his sister was wearing before catching the girl in his arms and voicing what his mother had been fearing for months. "Please don't tell me she's taking after dad."

"Oh yes she is, apparently you get to be the good child and she is going to be the prank pulling hellion with designs to single-handedly surpass every record these three ever set."

"Well my dear fellow marauders I hate to admit it but you three were right. She's a prankster at heart after all. Dear god how I wish she wasn't; Hogwarts may not survive a true marauder of mum and dad's intelligence and creativity."

"Harry I'm more worried about the world then Hogwarts."

"But Harry she's so much better at this than you ever wore!"

"Thanks dad."

"Well she is! This was her first attempt and she got all three of us in one shot with a delayed water activated color changing potion. When you prank you always try and make a point or teach a lesson, this was just for fun with Rose wasn't it honey?"

"You bet horned horsey daddy!"

"Rose it's not a horned horsey it's a stag and their called antlers!"

Fighting to contain his mirth Harry took one look at Padfoot wondering what the dear seven year old had come up with for his godfather and based on the glare he was getting in return it was quite good. "So Little Flower do you have a nickname for Uncle Padfoot?"

"Yep! He's Uncle Ugly Rabid Dogy!" Harry was trying not to laugh to hard at his Uncles expense. The problem is a Marauder defines laughing to hard as when you've pissed yourself and manage to not care. So naturally Harry had a rather large amount of room to work with. Even Remus and Lily were chuckling at the old dogs expense. Seeing his two friends dragging their respective families over to his own Harry pulled himself together for the formalities that dealing with the Lady Longbottom required.

Honestly it wasn't even all that serious, the three of them simply wanted to meet at Harry's house sometime between Christmas day and the new year. Unfortunately that would take nearly twenty minutes of frightening polite conversation that Lily and Remus had to translate for the two dentists. None the less addresses were exchanged and it was established that three days after Christmas the three families would eat together, share traditions and stories, and spread the holidays cheer. The only question left to be answered was if the Grangers wanted to travel muggle or magical.

* * *

A long haired, red headed, young man walked out of the Three Broomsticks tavern in Hogsmead wearing a leather jacket that hung to his knees while sporting a single jagged dragon fang earring in one of his lobes. It'd been to long since he'd been here, to long since he'd seen his family. Family. The sole reason he'd Apparated half way across Egypt in short leaps before taking two international Floos to wind up in Hogsmead. Bill Weasley was the oldest brother of a Quidditch team worth of children and his youngest brother needed him desperately now.

He did actually feel sorry for Ron in a way. He himself was almost off to Hogwarts when Ron was born and Charlie followed him there shortly after. Percy had always been a bit of a loner and kept to himself most of the time. The twins, despite their intentions of humor, had often found him to be the easiest source of humor in the house. And there was Ginny who was so close to him in age, Ron couldn't remember a time where he was the baby of the family and had been showered with attention for a time. Combine that with her being the first girl of the family and it appeared as if she was treated better than the boys.

Even Bill had been upset with her treatment during the summers back when he was a teen before he had left home. Looking back it was a silly thing to have been angry about; Ginny was a girl and she couldn't wear boy things or room with a boy beyond a certain age. So Ginny had gotten new clothes to wear and she was the first one to get a room to herself after the older siblings had taken to sharing living space. Looking back Bill could see the reasons why and that his parents were doing the best they could. He hadn't seen that at seventeen and he doubted that Ron could see that at eleven.

Ron was, in a way, in the worst position of any of the kids. He couldn't feel the pride that his parents had foisted on him and Charlie over the most minor of feats. Anything that Ron could have accomplished had already been accomplished by another sibling, sometimes twice over, so he didn't feel the desire to try and impress his parents. He was too far down on the totem pole for even his nicest hand-me-downs to still be considered nice. He was the wrong gender to get anything of his own , mainly clothes and toys, like their younger sister had. And all of that was before even starting Hogwarts and taking account who he was trying to compare himself to. There was no doubt in Bill's mind that Ron was suffering from his upbringing. Bouts of jealousy, casually cutting others down with insults, and feeling like nobody respected him were the obvious symptoms. What Bill doubted was that anyone had keyed in on what the cause was; the heart of the matter was Ron didn't respect himself. Bill's youngest brother was backed between a rock and a hard place and anything or anyone is bound to lash out when they feel threatened while they are cornered.

The first thing Bill wanted to do before talking to his youngest brother was talk to the professors to see how Ron was doing and all three of the brothers who could and should have taken Ron under their wing by now. Percy's aloofness and the twins' humor be damned; their brother needed advice and they had left the boy floundering. That alone had warranted Bill coming out here. Bill had several other things on his mind for the day but until he understood where Ron was at, he couldn't make any concrete plans.

* * *

Christmas at the Potter had been pleasant as always with their extended family in attendance always keeping the mood light and warmhearted. Watching her boys rough house with each other always brought a smile to Lily's face despite the destruction and chaos that seemed to follow them around. The Sirius and James were talking about either work or quidditch. Remus and Harry were listening closely letting the other two revel in the attention they so loved. James turned to his wife and with in an instant she knew she wasn't going to be happy.

"Lily did you read over those letters we got the other day! You know the ones from the scouts at Harry's game?"

"Dad what are you talking about. There weren't any scouts at that game was there?"

It was Sirius who grabbed the boy around the shoulders in half a man hug before answering. "Of course there was Harry! There's only ten games at Hogwarts a year. You don't think any professional team is going to miss a game at England's most celebrated school do you? There's a scout from every major team at every game Harry. Between looking for up and coming talent and the crop of seventh year's graduating they can't afford to not see how people handle themselves."

"But why would they be sending us letters I've only played in one game and I'm still in my first year."

"James, Sirius, that enough! Harry the letters are just an invitation to come and attend their summer training camp. No one is talking about signing you or anything like you being a professional quidditch player. They're just expressing an interest in seeing you play some more is all. They liked what they saw but an hour isn't much to judge someone on. "

"Lily! Seven out of ten people who get invited to the summer camps eventually go pro for some team, and I can't think of anyone off the top of my head who was invited at Harry's age."

"I know that James but I don't want my son out on that field with a bunch of grown men who are twice his size trying to hurt him while they put him through the ropes. Besides has anyone actually asked Harry what he wants to do with his life? He is after all the one who has to live it." James looked at Sirius as if it was the most ridicules statement he'd ever heard. Who wouldn't want to be paid to play Quidditch? Taking the silence for an answer the red head turned to Harry. "So son have you had any thoughts on what you want to do?"

"Actually I thought I'd go follow the family tradition."

"Well you've always been good with runes so I can't see you having any problems with any work in wards or the like."

"No dad I meant I thought I'd follow you and Sirius into the DMLE." This brought James to a stand still. He'd never considered that his son would want to be an Auror. James had gone into Law Enforcement so his family wouldn't have or need to. He'd already had to deal with his son being targeted as an infant by a psychotic killer. What in Merlin's book had made his son want to go looking for people like that?

"Harry why would you want to be an Auror? You've got all the talent in the world to go into quidditch if you like or the skills to go into private warding, curse-breaking, or enchanting even with Goblins of Gringotts if you really wanted to. Why would you want to go into a field where they aren't going to pay you what you could be making in any other job you could get?"

"Because dad it's a job that needs to be done. It's a job that actually matters."

"But Harry it's boring job filled with lots of paperwork and most of the time me and your uncle Sirius don't even leave the office. And now they've pushed the requirements up on the academy and extended it to a three year school. Are you sure you want to sign up for a job like that? Mediocre pay, substandard benefits, boring days, and nobody knowing how exceptional you are. Wouldn't you rather have a three day work week where you get paid lots of money and have girls throwing their knickers at you?"

"JAMES!"

"Not now Lily I'm trying to talk our son into being a professional quidditch player!"

"Dad... I'd rather make a difference in the world. The family's never hurt for money dad and you and mum make enough to cover what needs to be covered. The people who I care about already know I'm "exceptional" and I don't need girls knickers landing on my head to remind me of that. I have my family and that's all that I need. " Damn it. Bugger it all to hell. What could James possibly say to that? That he didn't want his son chasing after wizards or witches that were breaking the law? That he'd rather his son be an arrogant bastard that wasn't chasing danger at the drop of a hat? He'd look like a hypocrite and his wife might disconnect him from his favorite activity if Harry turned into someone like that. Besides he swore to himself when Harry was born he'd support him in anything he ever wanted to do. But that didn't mean James was going to like it. However just because James didn't like what Harry wanted to do with his life wasn't going to stop James from doing everything in his power to make sure Harry was the best he could be.

"OK Harry if that's what you think you want to be I'll do everything I can to make it a reality.. How's your Defense Against the Dark Arts class going?"

"The Professor is a total whack case dad. He can't make it a single lesson without stuttering through half the lesson and Neville's always getting these weird vibes form him. And the classroom reeks of garlic. I think the only one who can pay attention to what he's saying is Hermione. Luckily the material is a lot easier than the history Remus was trying to make me study."

Remus could be heard muttering in the background about stubborn Potter men not wanting to learn anything about history. Forcing himself to suppress a laughter James pushed on as memories of his favorite nap time during Hogwarts tried to surface. "Harry if you really want to be an Auror I think you should talk to Professor Flitwick."

"My charms teacher?"

"You better believe it Harry. He's a world class dueling champion. I heard on his best days he could give Dumbledore a decent match. If I had known how good he was when I was at Hogwarts and I had been planning on going into Law Enforcement back then I'd have asked him for extra lessons on the side. How's your charm work?"

"Professor Flitwick says he hasn't seen anyone take to charms the way I have since he taught one Lily Evans."

"That's great Harry! If that's the case maybe he'd be willing to do a little extra teaching on the side for two of his favorite students." There was a somber moment that lingered for just a second in everyone's eyes as they realized that if Harry had made up his mind to follow his mother's saving people thing and wanted to make the world a better place there was nothing anyone could do about it. Luckily the moment was interrupted before it became to serious by a flying girl named after a flower that had discovered her love for brooms and quidditch just last month in the Hogwarts stands. All the love and passion her father had for the sport despite lacking her brother's natural talent in the area.

"ROSELYN POTTER!" It was only Harry's unnaturally high reflexes and him suddenly deepening the connection to his inner panther, an act which increased the mass and strength of his limbs, that allowed him to turn on a dime and pick the girl that was hurling towards him as fast as her little broom could manage out of mid air. Had Harry had more time he might have considered grabbing the girls broom has it passed by him but as far as Harry was concerned he was grabbing the most important thing in the room at that moment before it impacted a wall. Which is exactly where Rose's broom ended up.

"Rose what were you thinking! You could have hurt yourself or anyone who couldn't get out of your way."

Rose looked down at the floor and had it not been silent the girl's whisper would have been missed. "I wanted to be like Big Kitty Cat brother."

"Mum could you let me talk to her before Mt. Mother erupts in all her fiery glory? She was trying to be like me so this is part my fault and she won't be able to process anything if you start yelling at her in in a fear induced fit." Harry knew what he was talking about, mostly from having seen James and Sirius shaking in fear that time they had "accidentally" dumped a green slime thing on her head. Than again the young man had been on the wrong side of her tirades more than once, the troll incident being the most recent.

"Come on Lils let's sit down and relax while Harry talks to Rose, we can fix the wall and nobody got hurt. That's what really matters isn't it?"

"I swear James if I wasn't a witch I'd have gray hair with all these antics."

"That's probably true honey but look at the bright side. Not only are you a witch but even if all your hair went gray I'd still love you just as much."

Harry put Rose down on the ground before kneeling in front of his little sister and unleashing his best serious and overprotective big brother expression on the little girl. "Rose why were you flying through the house and trying to crash into me?"

"I was trying to fly like you did during the game."

"But Rose I was playing a game which if you happened to notice was outside. Meaning not inside the house."

"I know but it's a little broom not a big fast broom like yours. But I wanted to be like you, I wanted to fly like you, maybe you can teach me?"

"You don't want daddy to teach you how to fly?"

"No you fly better then daddy does! He said so, I want you to teach me to fly good like you."

Lifting his eyes and leaning his head to the side Harry received the confirmation that he was looking for from his two parents. "OK Little Flower I'll teach you how to fly. No more flying in the house?"

"Teach me to turn into an animal too?"

Looking back once again to his parents the sight of his father's facing suddenly matching the ghosts of Hogwarts and his mother's rapid shake of her head was more than enough of an answer for the youngest male in the room. "Maybe in a few years Rose." It went without saying that Lily and James had no intention of allowing Rose to start her journey to adult hood even one second before nature forced them to accept it.

* * *

Bill had picked up Ron after he had talked to his former head of house and gotten permission to take him out for the day. Technically speaking, he should have to either be one of his parents or have their permission to do this but Professor McGonagall had been dealing with the Weasley family for close to a decade now. She had granted Bill some lee-way for the day with the request he return her a lion she could be proud of. "Bill, what's the secret?".

Sitting down at the Three Broomsticks Bill had picked up a Butterbeer for him and Ron. He wanted this to be an open and honest conversation, one of the best ways to do that was to make this as non confrontational as possible. "What's what secret?"

"You know the secret to success. You and Charlie are each out on your own, with a great job, living life, and being successful so can you tell me, what the secret is?"

Oh. This was worse than Bill had realized. Not that he really should have been surprised. This wasn't an uncommon line of thinking that young wizards came up with while they were at Hogwarts. That there was some magical secret or charm or incantation that would make everything better. They believed that just by knowing this magical secret that all the girls would flock to them, galleons would rain from the heavens, and people would be beating down their door to be their friends. It was a rude awakening when none of that ever happened if they learned what the secrets of life were.

"You want to hear the secret of success, huh?"

"You bet I do."

"The one where everything in the world suddenly goes your way?"

"Yeah, that's the one I want to know about."

"It doesn't exist Ron. The secret to success is that there is no secret."

"B-b-but there's got to be something Bill! I mean, isn't there some sort of magic that makes everything work?"

"No Ron. There isn't."

"But-but-"

"No buts Ron, there isn't a secret. And to prove it to you, we're going to play a game called Seven Questions."

"Is that anything like Exploding Snap or Wizard's Chess?"

"Well, I could say it's related to wizard's chess in a roundabout way. For example, in Wizards chess if you're opponent moves his king's pawn forward followed by the queen or bishop coming out, what do you do?"

"You reinforce the bishop's pawn to protect from the fast checkmate. I prefer to use the king's side knight. "

"Very good, this game is similar. Instead of talking about a chess board, we're going to talk about things that really matter and you will have to work out the lessons for yourself. I'll ask a question and you will tell me your answer. Once you and I can agree on an answer, I'll ask you another question. First question: can you eat magic?"

"Of course not, Bill. Magic isn't even solid. How could you eat it?"

"Couldn't I turn that rock over there into chicken?"

"Well yeah, you could. I mean, I guess you could. I've seen Professor McGonagall turn a desk into a pig."

"Could I then kill that chicken, cut it up, cook it and eat it?"

"Well, I mean, if you turned that rock into a chicken, I guess you could do those things. But wouldn't it be easier to buy a chicken that was already cut up?"

"Yeah, it would be easier, Ron. But what if I was stuck somewhere and I was really hungry. Could I use my magic to turn that rock into food I could eat?"

"Well, if you were really, really hungry and couldn't get any other food, I guess you could do that."

"No Ron, I couldn't."

"But you just said…"

"Listen up now and pay attention. Even if I turned that rock into a chicken it would still be a rock. It'd just be a rock that looked, smelled, felt, tasted, and sounded like a chicken but it would still be a rock. Eventually the magic would wear off and it'd go back to being just a plain, old rock again. If I tried to eat it after I turned it into a chicken, it'd be no different from eating a rock. Only when the magic wore off I'd have bits of rock in my stomach. That's why everyone has to buy food Ron. It's not just because it's easier to buy food, it's because it's impossible to consume food that's been created with magic."

"Oh… That's one of those laws of magic things, right?"

"Yeah, Ron, it is. Next question: What about water I conjure with magic?"

"I guess you can't drink created water either then."

"That's right, you can't. I do know a charm that lets me pull real water out of the air to drink but that's as close as anyone as ever gotten. That doesn't mean conjured water doesn't have its uses. It's perfectly fine to take a bath in, put out a fire with, or just to cool off. This one doesn't count but what about air?"

"Air?"

"The air you breathe?"

"I'm guessing not."

"You'd guess right. Question three. Let's say I wanted to build a house, could I make the house out of magic?"

"Well if a rock that you turned into a chicken would eventually turn back into a rock than wouldn't anything you turned a house into eventually turn back into what it started as?"

"Very good, Ron. So what's your answer?"

"No, you couldn't make something into a house forever out of magic. Eventually, you'd have to leave and when you came back, your house would be something different."

"Exactly. Next question: question number four. Can you use magic to make Galleons?"

" Of course not. Everybody knows that you can't make gold with magic."

"And why is that Ron?"

"It's one of those rules about magic."

"You're right about that. It's against the rules of magic to make money. Wizards can't even create muggle money, even though it's nothing but pieces of green parchment with pictures and numbers on it."

"Well why can't we create that?"

"Nobody knows Ron. But if we could than no witch or wizard would ever have to work. We could just buy everything from muggles with money we created out of thin air. Or we could even trade that paper money for Galleons at Gringotts. Whatever the reason, money is magically protected so it can't be created. Question five: is there any magic that will make someone fall in love with someone else?"

"Yeah there is. Everyone knows about love potions."

"Wrong again, little brother. Love potions don't make a person fall in love with you or create love at all. The best they can ever be said to do is suppress real emotions with fake ones; after the potions are gone the person will know it was all a lie. On the weakest side of things, they create a small attraction and maybe cause a growth in confidence or a decrease in nerves. If a relationship actually develops out of that, then the two people still fell in love on their own. The potion just gave them a push in the right direction. Not much different than being set up on a date or dressing a certain way or a bit of flirting to be honest. That type of potion won't overcome strong emotions or force a person to be with somebody they don't like.

"However, on the opposite side of the scale is something like Amortentia, the strongest love potion in the world. It's nothing more than the Imperius curse in a bottled form."

"How do you figure that? It can't be as bad as an Unforgivable."

"It might be worse because it doesn't even take a wand to use. One of the reasons the Imperius curse is considered Unforgivable is because it strips the target of their free will. A person under the influence of Amortentia isn't any different. They will do anything the target of the potion wants them to do. Become anything they are asked to become and they will do it willingly in the name of love. The Imperius curse can be fought off through sheer willpower but the same can't be said about a love potion of that potency. Using Amortentia is no different than getting a girl drunk on Firewhiskey and having your way with her while she's asleep. As far as I'm concerned, and dad feels the same way, it's nothing more than rape. If either he or I ever find out you've done either of those, the time dad lost his temper with the twins over that unbreakable vow will look minor. Weasley men are better than that Ron. No if's, ands, or buts. This family is better than that. Normally you'd hear this from dad in a few years when you started dating, but it came up in the conversation and I don't want you having any misguided beliefs."

"What's question six?"

"Can any magic make people be your friend of create you a family?"

"Based on all the other questions, I'm going to say no."

"Very good little brother. I'm glad you're starting to see the pattern. Last question, Ron. But first answer me this. Do you need food, water, and air?" "

"Yes"

"What about a house and money for the necessities?"

"Yes"

"What about friends, love, and family?"

"Yes."

"If magic can't provide you any of those things, then why would you think that magic can provide the secret to life or success? That magic can make you feel good about yourself, or fix the way you see things?"

"I don't know Bill. I just thought that's how things worked."

"Ron, magic is a lot of things. Magic can do a lot of things. It can make things easier or safer. It can make things better or more effective. It can make things faster or more enjoyable. But magic isn't a fix for real problems Ron. That's the first of the secrets of life Ron, magic isn't an instant fix for anything other than a broken dish."

"You said it was the first of life's secrets. Does that mean there's more you're going to tell me?"

"Yeah, there is. But first, I think it'd be best if we go get your Christmas gift, don't you?"

* * *

Neville Longbottom walked slowly into a meadow surrounded by Cheery Blossom and Holly trees. There were runes scribed directly into the trees that were able to draw their energy directly from Gaia that had been crafted by Harry's dad himself before the whole of the estate had brought under the secrecy charm. Each tree produced several charms and wards and enchantments meant to make this place as sacred as possible. Wards to protect against intrusion and evil intent, charms to protect against the weather, enchantments to make this place both calming and serene. Years ago in this grove Frank Longbottom had asked his beloved to take his name. A year later they had joined hands here in the center with nature, friends, and family has witnesses. And now they were entombed here. Here at the center of the clearing was a life size statue of his parents sitting on a bench with headstones on either side being remembered for what they considered their crowning achievement. Not as Aurors, or Members of the Order of the Phoenix, not even as the heads of the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom, or defeaters of the Dark Lord. Sitting here holding hands and looking down at an infant wrapped in a blanket they were displayed as what they felt their greatest accomplishment would ever be - as parents.

"Hi Mum, Hi Dad. I know it's been a while since I've been out here but like I told you last time I had to away to school. I'm sorry I didn't get out here sooner when I got home for break but I wanted to get all my reading and homework done as soon as I could. Gran's always told me how important school and work was to you two so I hope you understand."

Rationally Neville knew his parents could never answer him. That wasn't why he came out here as often as he did. This just wasn't a place on the planet where he felt closer to them. Here in this sanctuary against the world he could almost feel his mother's arms around him and her lips brushing his cheeks, his father's strong hands gripping his shoulders and the rustle of the leaves were the sounds of them telling him how proud of him they were and how much they loved him. To Neville Longbottom there wasn't a safer or more beautiful place in the world.

"Me and Harry were sorted into Gryffindor just like our parents before us. I haven't told anyone else this but the Hat talked about wanting to put me into Hufflepuff. I know you two wouldn't of cared in the slightest but being able to walk in and out the same rooms you did makes me feel better, closer to you I guess. I was walking around the castle one day and found one of the older trees that had initials that could have belonged to you two when you went to Hogwarts. They could've belonged to any number of people but I like to think that maybe that was a tree where you two would sit and hold hands while having a picnic. The worst part of all of this is I can't know if I honestly miss you or if I just miss the idea of you. It's like I'm grasping on to anything thing that you might have touched so I can be held for just a moment by you even if it's only through something you were around."

It wasn't that Neville was angry with his parents. He had the deepest respect and admiration for what they had done. They had stood up for what they believed in and fought when lesser men and women had fled. They had not backed down no matter how overwhelming the odds were. They had stood and faced the Dark Lord down looked him in the eye and told him to bugger off before crossing wands with him. Neville was exceptionally proud to be their son, but he didn't have any actual memories of them of his own. Pictures, letters, journals, old stories from their friends and remaining family that had been shared, and statues were as close to knowing his parents as he could ever get. They hadn't even had the chance to have a magical painting done so Neville had never even heard their voices.

"Schools going really well. I'm at the top of our year in Herbology; but I guess that shouldn't be a surprise with our family history. I've got a couple of close friends, Harry is without a doubt the closet and truest of them. He's stuck up for me quite a bit and anytime he needs me I'll be there to have his back. Sometimes he meanders off to do his own thing but that's mainly either because he's flying or enacting a bit of retribution and he knows I'm bollocks at the first and don't enjoy the other. We have another friend we made. Her name's Hermione Granger and she's first generation witch, Harry and his mum don't like the use of the word muggle so I try and avoid it when I can. Unfortunately sometimes it's the only way to talk without people looking at you like your crazy and sometimes I forget when I'm trying to make a point. Hermione's great though, bloody brilliant and kind hearted. She doesn't know anything about magical culture or traditions so she has a tendency to over react or not understand what's going on even though she's probably smarter then anyone in our year. She just doesn't know the right things to really understand some of the stuff that's going on. I've got another friend that likes to hang around with us whenever he gets a chance, the youngest Weasley boy. Ron's a good bloke even if he is a bit dense and harsh to be around. I like him though, he keeps things fun and from getting to serious and sometimes a couple rounds of exploding snap is a great way to break the boredom of a potions assignment."

"I had actually expected Potions to be worse then what it is. Maybe it's better than what I expected because Mrs. Potter threatened Professor Snape with something horrible at the start of the term. He was bloody awful to Harry on the first day and if you remember his dad at all you know a Potter doesn't take that kind of thing laying down. Harry got us all thrown out of class when he tried to rip out the Professor's heart with a sharp tongue. The next time we had class the Potion master had a black eye, a more bent nose., and a limp. Harry had a cheeky grin he couldn't contain and He told me after the class it was all his mum's doing."

"Sometimes I wonder if that's what either of you would have been like. Loving, compassionate, and terrifying like Mrs. Potter. A fun loving mentor in what it means to be a man. Harry made the quidditch team already, he says it's all because his dad started to teaching him how to fly years ago. I wonder if that's the kind of things we would have done dad. Would you have taken me through the trees and our green house and showed me the best way to talk to the plants and make them behave? Would you have shown me how to listen to nature and be strong like an oak? I'm doing my best to figure it out from what fragments I have dad but sometimes I don't know if I'm getting it right. Gran does her best but well you know your mum dad. I have a hard time understanding her and I don't think she really understands me at all. She's always been strict but fair, I just wish I had somebody I could really look up to."

Neville sat and talked the day away hoping his parents would hear him and that someday in a century or so they'd be able to tell him their half of the conversation. He talked about his classes and how the professors were doing. He talked about the girls at Hogwarts and Quidditch. He talked about the future and hopes and dreams for what he wanted to do. He talked about all the things he thought his parents would want to know but weren't there to ask. He never realized that despite not being able to hear their voices or feel their touch they also sat in that grove and listened to every word.

* * *

"What are we doing in Diagon Alley, Bill?"

"Getting you your presents from me and Charlie."

"OK, well, can I at least know where we're going?"

"We're headed right there Ron, Ollivander's."

"We're getting me my own wand? But I've got Charlie's old wand. Mum said he would have wanted me to have it."

"Yeah, you've got Charlie's old wand Ron. What you don't know is that that wand was passed down from one of Mum's twin brother's. I can't remember for the life of me which one it is but that wand you're holding has been used by at least two other people now. Why do you think Charlie replaced it with a wand he bought for himself?"

"This was either Uncle Fabian's or Uncle Gideon's? And I thought Mum and Dad bought Charlie a wand for graduating Hogwarts."

"Nope. He bought it himself with his first check advance after he got hired as a dragon keeper. You didn't think Charlie let his wand get that bad within in seven years did you? It's got unicorn tail sticking out the tip. That wand you've got has got to be pushing three decades of use Ron. And if it's not properly matched for you than I doubt your able to cast very well or consistently with it. It's why the first thing me and Charlie did after we graduated was get ourselves proper wands."

"Then how come we use hand me down wands that belonged to somebody else if they don't work right?"

"The wands work well enough for most things Ron. Their just inconsistent and tend to be more unwieldy. Harder to use doesn't make them impossible. There might be a handful of reasons why Mum insists on using second hand wands. Maybe by using a wand that is more difficult than normal it forces us to be perfectionists in our casting. Maybe by having to use more magic for each spell it causes us to build up a greater magical endurance. Mr. Ollivander told me that the wand and the wizard learn from each other; maybe Mum thinks it's an advantage that will help us learn the things they knew before they passed. Maybe it's just a tradition and her way of passing down a legacy. Honestly, I don't know Ron."

"Are you sure I should be getting a new wand than?"

"Of that I am sure, littlest brother. As soon as I picked up a matched wand, my casting ability smoothed out entirely."

"Well if you're sure Bill. I trust you.

"Ah Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley. I was expecting you here months ago. Did you not start Hogwarts last September?"

"He did, Mr. Ollivander, but you know our mum."

"Indeed, I do know how you're mother works; passing on second generation wands that give even the slightest of reactions to a touch. For one in my profession, it's a rather disgraceful practice."

"Hey, don't go calling my mum disgraceful you ….." Bill's palm made a resounding WHACK against the back of Ron's head as Bill brought his hand up interrupting the tirade before it started.

"Shut up, Ron. You need to learn to listen to what's actually being said Ron. He didn't say mum was disgraceful. He said what she was doing with the family's wands was disgraceful. There is a difference and insulting someone shouldn't be your first response. My apologies, Mr. Ollivander. Maybe you should explain why what she's doing is so bad."

"Maybe it would be easier if I could look at your wand first, Mr. Weasley." Ron withdrew the aged wand from a pocket in his robes before handing it over. "Ah yes. Mr. Fabian Prewett's wand. And based upon its condition, it was not suited for Charles. That alone might explain why you would be having difficulty with it. You see, Mr. Weasley, if a wand chooses to fight the user of the wand, rather than working in a symbiotic manner, the wand becomes damaged as the wood wears away and you start to see the core of the wand.

"This is why wands and the wizards using them must be compatible. Had Charles taken this wand by force in an honest conflict, the wand would have submitted to his will and it would not be damaged in this way. Or had your brother been more like your uncle, this would not have happened. As it is, this wand and its second user were almost totally incompatible. And judging from the way it reacts to your touch, it is at best only mildly suited for you."

"Determining a wand's capability with a wizard is a difficult thing as it can take different forms. Some wands choose a master based upon the concept of balance, allowing them to become better rounded. Other wands choose a master based on the talents the wizard is predisposed to, making them stronger in those particular fields. Prodigies in transfiguration and charms seem to take that route while the latter seems o be more common. Still, other wands choose a person for reasons even masters in this craft have trouble explaining. Let us find you a wand and I can explain more."

Mr. Ollivander took several measurements for the youngest Weasley boy before going to his inventory and coming back with a stack of boxes. "First Mr. Weasley, there is a slight correlation between stature and wand length. It is believed that it has to do with wand and wrist movements. A wand with a fair difference in length can be used but requires greater precision and is less acceptable of mistakes. You are already quite tall for your age and it is likely your wand will be on the upper scale of lengths."

"Also, what's needed to take into consideration is that every wand has strengths and connotations associated with them which are based on their cores and wood types. Likewise, every person has a different attunement to the four classical elements and inherent talents they may not even know they have. Ash, the wood of your uncle's wand, is known for sacrifice and sensitivity and is exceptionally strong and burns well. Unicorn hair, the core of that wand, is represented of many things. Purity, beauty, prosperity, love, virginity, earth, and nature itself, along with females in general. How these things come together forms the framework of the wand and determines how the wand interacts with the wizard. Now, not all aspects of a core or the wood are passed into a wand but having a bad mix or interaction between the wand and wizard is what leads to wands failing to work and eventually falling apart."

Thirty minutes after entering the store Bill and Ron left with a fourteen inch willow and unicorn hair wand. It was a wand that they had been informed would be best served if Ron would follow his intuition and instincts rather than any preconceived notions or beliefs. It was even mildly suggested that the wand would work well in the field of divination if Ron chose to open his mind to the possibilities. "OK, Ron. We've got one more stop before we head back to Hogwarts."

* * *

There was a distinctive crack in the air outside the Granger residence that despite the stillness of the neighborhood was largely ignored due to it's lack of intensity. While some people lacked experience and talent with the fastest and most direct form of magical travel James Potter had developed a rather strong fondness for it. Such was his skill that he could appear as loud as a gun shot or almost silently if he so wanted. Most of the time it was distinct crack of glass breaking in the distance. Enough of a sound to alert those around him without deafening them, but not quite loud enough to draw attention or be heard from a distance. However there were several times he'd appear as loud as he could inches behind someone just to see the look on their face when they turned to see him. Most of the time it was his wife Lily while she was in immersed in a book; even after all these years he still loved the look on her face as he left her flustered and flushed.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger how are you doing this evening?" "Please if were going to be spending all night together it's Miranda and Jacob.

"Please than call my wife Lily and me James. Are you three ready to head for our wonderful abode?"

"We are but how exactly are we getting there?"

"Ah that's the wonderful part about magic! You three get a choice, we can be there in a mildly uncomfortable two seconds or we can be there in an extremely comfortable hour. I suppose we could do a blend of the two and get there in a mildly comfortable fifteen minutes but Lily gets pissy when I activate the charms on the car."

"Of course I do James! You risk people finding out about the magical world and our car isn't certified like the knight bus. Besides what's the point of driving a car if you're going to use magic to make the damn thing go faster without improving the quality of the ride." Lily Potter might have loved the not at all occasional ride in her new Miata but she couldn't stand the thrill of the Knight Bus at all. She loved the feel of the wind and speed as the little car would race around the curves with all the grace and elegance of a figure skater. She certainly didn't enjoy the feel of being thrown around at the reckless speeds that charmed vehicles managed. She even enjoyed the motorcycle that her husband would borrow from Sirius when James kept the damn thing on the ground. Lily had long come to grips that she enjoyed going fast and having the wind in her hair; those damn vibrations just made it more enjoyable. James had never understood how she could love going fast and hate brooms with the passion she did. Really was it that hard to understand a fear of falling to one's death? It was after all one of the few genetically ingrained fears every human was supposed to be born with. Even infants, apart from her son apparently who had been flying before he had been walking, understood this concept.

"Um not to be rude James, Lily, but I don't exactly see a car anywhere near here."

"Of course you don't. We have it shrunk and it's inside Lily's purse. Don't worry it's perfectly safe to expand it and take it whenever we need. Even charmed the tank to be everlasting so we never have to stop to fill it up."

"Well just the same I think Hermione would like to see her friends sooner rather than later. Besides how many times will we get to travel magically?"

"That's the spirit Jacob! OK I need each of you to take hold of one of my hands, Lily and Hermione will each take your other hand before completing the circle together." James watched Hermione's parents share a look of apprehension before the five of them linked hands. "OK I'm going to make this as comfortable as I can so the trip will take slightly longer than it normally would and when we arrive you might hear a fairly loud cracking noise. It's nothing to be worried about it's just the air being displaced rapidly. Now Hermione I know you've never done this so instead of asking you to try anything new that requires a license and being of age all I want you to do is focus on the way it feels just before you cast a spell. Can you do that for me?" Seeing the young girl nod James pressed on. "Excellent now when you have the feeling good and strong nod again and I'll lead us to our destination."

Hermione focused deep within her self and felt her body temperature rise and her mind go cloudy and hazy. For the briefest of moments it was as if the whole world had fallen away and she knew nothing but the task at hand. Dropping her head again Hermione felt all the air around her being sucked away as if the world it self was decompressing. In less time then it took for her to lose her breath the journey was done and the group of five had landed.

"That was mildly discomforting?"

"Was that Teleportation?"

"Oh quite, most of the time someone takes another person along for the ride it feels like you're being ripped through a steel straw. Even when I travel like that by myself it's not quite that comfortable. James is quite talented in that respect. It's why me and Hermione helped him by drawing our magic out of our cores instead of me simply taking Hermione myself. We provided the energy needed while he made it perform correctly."

"Thank you honey. The comfort all has to do with the speed of changing locations, it took almost twice as long to make the trip as it normally would have. Very few wizards ever learn to control that aspect of traveling like that. And no it wasn't teleportation. Despite how fast we traveled it was a far cry from instantaneous."

"How exactly does it work?"

"Do you promise not to try it before you get lessons in your sixth year at Hogwarts?"

"Of course sir."

"The mechanics of it are rather convoluted and complicated but I'll explain in the most general of terms. When Appariting like that you surround yourself with your magic and hold a picture in your head of where you want to be. Then you will yourself to be there. The geniuses of the wizarding world haven't decided if we are accelerating our bodies to that point rapidly, if we are opening a portal that we pass through, if we are exiting the dimension and reentering in a different place, or what was that last one honey?"

"Creating a localized distortion and folding the time-space continuum between two points during transit while exiting on the other side."

"Yeah that. Whatever the hell that is. I think it's a combination of a few theories but I've always been a practical guy. I feel like I'm moving faster and crossing through a portal that makes the two points seem really close together. The key to this travel of method is in making sure you surround everything you want to take with you with your magic. Beginners often leave behind body parts and need to get them reattached with by a magic reversal squad. While I was refining my technique it wasn't all that common for me to leave my clothes where I started and end up somewhere feeling very drafty. In general the cracking noise is created by taking more air then necessary, forcing the transit to be faster then required, and traveling further. A Master like Dumbledore can travel across the English channel from London with somebody else and not make but a whisper when he arrives. None the less I welcome you to Potter's Place."

Looking around the Granger family found themselves on a brick walkway inside a wrought iron fence that lead to the only house in the area. Potter Place appeared to be a two story middle class white brick home with a great deal of room for the yard. There were mundane flowers and evergreen bushes lining the inside of the fence that added color to the scene. The house itself possessed a warmth and elegant charm that made even the two muggles feel safe and invited. For Hermione the feeling was a great deal stronger has her own magic reached a harmonic resonance with the surrounding magic that was in the air. She had felt something similar the first time she had approached Hogwarts but this feeling was different. Hogwarts had been a bastion of safety that left her somewhere between drowning and swimming in magic. The Potter residence by comparison left the air charged with a feeling of joy and invitation that made their friends and family feel more alive. To those who were less than friendly with the family standing within their wards felt like the house itself was trying to rip the air from their lungs.

Walking into the home the Grangers were treated with their first sight of the interior of a magical home. Jacob and Miranda had no idea what to have expected when they agreed to come over back on the magical platform but this wasn't it. Their expectations had been anything from a dungeon filled with cauldrons spilling green fumes onto the floor to a palace with birds and figurines flying back and forth across the house. They had even briefly wondered if they would even be able to see or recall the home or anything inside or if the nature of magic would deny them even that.

Instead what they found was a normal home that had apparently been kissed by magic. There was no denying that magic was present. Lighting had the natural brilliance of sunlight that could grow to the intensity of an August sun or dim to radiance of a sunset lit beach. Any scratches or stains had long since been repaired and removed with magic. Rooms were maintained at perfect temperatures and humidity with environment charms that were set individually. Old paintings moved and introduced themselves while magical photos danced in their frames. "Hermione is this what it's like for you at Hogwarts?"

"The castle is colder and drafter. We also have Ghosts that walk through the walls and a poltergeist that enjoys causing mayhem. But the paintings are very similar and Hogwarts has a presence all it's own." This was in part all apart of the plan that Harry had hatched on platform nine and three-quarters. Hermione, like Lily before her, was an avid student and wrote two or three times a week to her parents about everything she was doing and learning. Harry however had unfortunately been forced to learn what magic had cost his mother, she had been forced to trade one family for another. It had been a slow slip and slide of a ride where one sacrifice lead to another that culminated in the death of her parents and the estrangement from her sister. Harry had heard the stories after the fact but James had been there to see the whole ugly ride. From that point forward for all purposes Lily Evans had no family until James and her formed their own.

It was by and far one of the most common tales for anyone from a mundane background in the wizarding world. They tried to keep in touch, they fought tooth and nail to be apart of their family's lives, but eventually most all of them gave up one of their lives. Lacking a formal mundane education, any means in which to support themselves, and most importantly the very secrets their abilities forced them to have almost always prevented the mundane world from winning the conflict of which one was given up. For Harry it was a simple bit of math, he had an aunt, an uncle, and a cousin he had never seen nor would he ever know. To a kid who believed family was everything the last thing he wanted to see was a friend lose her family the way his mother had lost hers.

Dinner was what would pass as a quite affair at the Potter house. All that really meant was Rose didn't try and decapitate anyone with her broom and Sirius, James, and Remus had been threatened to be on their best behavior. Stories were shared, drinks were tried, and laughter was abound with the sharp wit of the marauders and the unmatched intelligence of the women in the house. The only ones who seemed even the slightest bit out of place were Lady Longbottom and Jacob Granger. The former was a bit dated in her humor and could not always understanding the jokes that were made, while the latter adapted a vigilant eye on the actions of his daughter and her interactions between her two friends. Her two decisively male friends.

The night still being young Harry, Hermione, and Neville each drifted towards each other as they often did in school. Hermione had spent the last several days going over a diary, that she refused to acknowledge was in fact a diary, and a fountain pen that she had received on Christmas morning that was delivered by a snowy owl. "Harry thank you for the journal you sent me. How did you work the glamour on the pen to make it appear to be a quill and the vanishing lines on the parchment in the journal?"

"Ah my mum handled the charm work for me on the pen and paper after I had done the rest of the rune work."

"Other rune work?"

"I'll tell you this Hermione, that pen will always be in your diary when you open it and I it will be a very long time before need to refill it with ink." Harry was forced to ignore the sputtering about the book he had given Hermione not being a diary while he moved on to his best mate. "Neville how are those planting pots I sent you? Are they showing any signs of being worth while yet?'

"Not yet Harry but even if they don't turn out to have any effects what so ever they're still great pots to plant a few small plants in."

"Well I guess that gives me six months to work on the next runic script."

"Harry really I don't think you can make plants grow larger, faster, or into better plants by writing runes on what you plant them in."

"You never know until you try Neville and I'm going to keep trying until I either get it right or prove to myself it can't be done. Besides I've got one more thing to do before tonight's a total success."

"What's that Harry."

"Think of it as a gift for your parents Hermione." With a hint of mischief in his eyes Harry turned and made his way to the adults who had been enjoying a quite conversation. "Mum, dad, I know how you feel about me using a wand outside of Hogwarts but would you consider letting Hermione do a little magic tonight?"

"Harry! It's against the law! We're not supposed to do magic outside of Hogwarts."

James and Lily shared a look that suggested this wasn't the first time this disagreement had come up between husband and wife. So far James had yet to provide a convincing argument "Harry you know we can't ….." Harry immediately started tuning her out and looking around the room. Had it just been Sirius and Remus or had it been last year he could've continued without any hesitation. However with the Lady Longbottom and the Granger family here that simply wasn't an option. To argue and fight with either of his parents in front of anyone not family would be the height of dishonor and disrespect for both guests and family. If he wanted his request to be taken seriously he had to act serious and prove he wasn't a child.

"Father. Mother. The heir of House Potter requests a private discussion pertaining to his request." It was only the paling face of Neville and the slowly drawn breath of the adults that clued in the Granger family that whatever Harry had just said was something important.

"Very well son. Please excuse us we have a family matter to discuss."

"Should we all go or...?"

"Nonsense this won't take long." Following Harry into another room James shut the door after He and Lily had entered.

"Sirius, Remus, what did Harry just do?"

"Harry just did something very brave. He essentially just went to bat for you Hermione." Seeing the confused looks on the Grangers faces Lady Longbottom cut in for an explanation.

"He formally challenged his parents ruling in the only manner he could. Before a witch or wizard goes to Hogwarts they are a child and are treated as such. They have more restrictions placed upon them but they are allowed more leniency in their behavior. Everyone who graduates Hogwarts is an adult and fully responsible for their words and actions. Between graduation and coming of age witches and wizards are in a state of transition. I imagine that's not terribly different in the muggle world is it?"

"No Ma'am that's very much how we were both raised."

"What Harry just did was challenge the head of his houses authority, not as a child by throwing a fit but as a young man requesting a rational discussion behind closed doors. Had he pushed his point here in front of company it would have insulting to us and to his parents. Because of that had the scion of the family ignored his request it would have been the same as James telling Harry he didn't respect him enough to even bother hearing what Harry wanted to say."

"Well I mean it's not like anything bad is going to happen right?"

"With James and Lily I highly doubt it. However just to be clear I tried the same thing at thirteen and it got me thrown out of the house and my name burned off the family wall."

"Thrown out of the house? But they wouldn't … I mean they couldn't..."

"No Hermione they wouldn't and my disagreement with my parents was many years in the building and much more volatile then their relationship has ever been with Harry. That and neither of my parents were particularly rational individuals and I was seen as an insult to their good name."

"But what's going to happen."

"They will listen to Harry's arguments and either change their minds or they won't. If they don't then Harry is bound by tradition to apologize to us and will be expected to abide their ruling in silence."

Ten minutes after the three had entered the room they returned just as quietly as they had left it.

* * *

Ron Weasley sat in the Gryffindor tower watching the Hogwarts express pull up to the station in Hogsmeade. Looking down at his left forearm he thought back and tried to burn every detail into his memory of the last hour of his trip with his eldest brother to Diagon Alley. It was beyond a doubt a turning point in his life and he wanted to remember it perfectly and if necessary be able to pass it on as well.

_"Bill, what are we doing in Knockturn Alley? Don't you know this is where all the evil wizards hang out?"_

_"We're here to get you your last present Ron."_

_"I don't want anything from this street! It's all evil here Bill!"_

_Chuckling to himself Bill turned his head and gazed down at the red head next to him."Not everything mum says is from the gospel of Merlin, Ron. Besides, didn't you come to me wanting to know the secret to success? __I can't tell you any one secret to success, but I can tell you the secrets of life that me and Charlie think are the most important."_

_"And we need to be in Knockturn Alley to do that?"_

_"Yep, we do. I know a girl who owes me a favor and she works in a store here. Besides we're almost there so stop worrying about it."_

_"If we get killed and have to haunt mum and dad forever, I'm going to tell them this was all your fault." Walking into a store Ron saw a short haired blond girl wearing a short sleeve shirt who was about Bills age, but despite her being what Ron would normally call very attractive he wasn't looking anywhere near her face. In fact his attention wasn't on anything he'd normally be looking at. His eyes were locked on her arms; they were covered in ink and moving pictures!_

_"Bill! I'm glad you let me know you were coming before you just showed up expecting me to drop whatever it is I was doing because you wanted something from me. So, is this the bloke you want me to work on? Good lord he can't be more than twelve or thirteen."_

_"He's eleven and my little brother."_

_"Eleven! Bill what's the matter with you I can't work on somebody that young! There are laws about that sort of thing."_

_"Not here in the Wizarding world, Jamie. We both know there isn't anything written in any laws here in magical England about what you do in the back of this shop."_

_"But there are laws about this on the other side of the magical wall. Out in the mundane world. You know where I rent my flat!"_

_"Relax, nobody's going to find out, Jamie. Ron's never stepped foot outside the magical world and you're going to use that special ink just like you did for me and Charlie."_

_"Fine. Bring him into the back and after this, we are even. Got it?"_

_Ron, who hadn't said a word since they entered the store, looked up at Bill as if his older brother had lost his mind. "Bill, what are we doing here?"_

_"Don't worry about what we're doing, Ron. The important thing for you to know is that it's not going to hurt, it's going to be cool as hell, and nobody is going to know unless you tell them about it." Bill gave the boy a wink and turned and motioned for Ron to follow him. Following his older brother into the back, Ron saw Bill taking off his jacket and rolling the sleeve on his left arm up while sitting at a table in the middle of the room. "Ron, come over here and give me your hand."_

_Ron having always trusted his brother couldn't see any reason to not do what he was being asked. Bill took Ron's hand and placed it just under the crook of his elbow before channeling just the slightest bit of magic into Ron's hand. When Ron pulled his hand away he was treated with the sight of Hogwarts Crest. "Do you know what this is Ron."_

_"That's the emblem of Hogwarts and the four houses."_

_"Close but not quite Ron. This is the crest of the secrets of life as believed by Bill and Charlie Weasley. Neither of us have ever shared this with anyone else. You're the first to have ever come asking for advice like this from either of us and we always agreed that we'd only show this to our siblings that asked. This, Ron, is a visual representation of mine and Charlie's personal beliefs. It looks like the crest of Hogwarts because we drew our inspiration and beliefs from those we respected most while we were at Hogwarts. Tell me Ron do you know the positions of the houses on the shield of Hogwarts?"_

_"Gryffindor is in the left upper corner, Slytherin is in the upper right hand corner, with Hufflepuff being below the Lions, and the snakes being above Ravenclaw."_

_"Correct, Ron. Now as you look at what I have on my arm, are any of those in the same position?"_

_"No they'__re all mixed up."_

_"That's right we mixed them up based on what we felt was most important. Each of the four houses brings something worth emulating to the table Ron."_

_"Even the snakes?"_

_"Even Slytherin house has something worth emulating Ron. That House is the House of the ambitious and cunning, they set lofty goals, and then they go about trying to accomplish them in the best means possible using whatever means are needed. Sometimes it's through deceit and being sneaky and other times it's through being ingenious and clever. Those two things only become a problem when a person is willing to sell out common sense and cross the line of what is morally acceptable to achieve their goals. That's why the Slytherin crest is in the lower right hand corner."_

_"Next to it is the crest of Ravenclaw; the house of intelligence, wisdom, and a love for learning. They excel in learning all there is to know about whatever subject they devote their time to. Their only weakness is that they might over analyze something and spend too much time thinking rather than doing."_

_"Over the snakes is the symbol for the lions. As you know Gryffindor values bravery, action, and honor more than anything else. Godric couldn't stand cowards who were afraid of accomplishing what they wanted or those who would allow others to suffer in the slightest. Having virtues, beliefs, morals, and dreams are useless unless you are willing to act on them to see them through. The lions' greatest faults are being overly proud, reckless, and emotional."_

_"In the upper left in the place of honor as first amongst equals lies the shield of the Hufflepuff."_

_"The first amongst equals?"_

_"You see how my arm is laying flat on the surface and each of the shields is on the same level?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"The virtues they each represent are equal and provide balance to each other. However the first one anyone would read is always the upper left hand side. That's why Charlie and I placed the badger's crest there. Their traits are the most important for any amount of success. Loyalty. Justice. Dedication. Persistence. Tolerance. Most importantly, working harder than the next guy. Do you get it Ron? Do you understand the secrets of life?"_

_"Bill, I don't think I get it yet."_

_"Ron, if you want to succeed, it takes the virtues of all four houses. Be a Slytherin and set a goal you want to attain and if you're going to bother setting a goal, aim to be the best. Be a Ravenclaw and learn all there is about what you want to be and do, that way you know how to go about being the best and what is required of you. Be a Gryffindor and face your fears and keep walking forward. Courage is not recklessness or lack of fear; it is the act of acknowledging that what makes you shake and refusing to be cowed. More importantly, it's the act of standing up not only for yourself, but for those around you can't or won't stand up for themselves. Most importantly, more than anything else, be a Hufflepuff. Be loyal to your friends, family, and beliefs. Be tolerant of new ideas and those you disagree with. Seek and uphold justice for it is what is right. Dedicate yourself and apply everything you are to everything you do with an enduring persistence that will never waiver. Do these things and you cannot fail. Not in anything. Not as friend, a brother, a Quidditch player, or whatever you decide to be. Most importantly you won't fail as a man, a wizard, a person and everybody will be proud to say they know Ron Weasley."_

_Somewhere in the energetic zeal of Bill's speech Jamie must have applied a numbing charm to Ron's arm because when he looked down his arm had an identical copy of the shield that was on his older brother's forearm._

Ron looked down at the thirteen words that circled the crest. It had been his idea to add it to the picture and Bill had agreed. Bill had explained that thirteen was a magically powerful number and it might aid him or the symbol of what the picture on his arm represented. "Devotion. Honor. Intelligence. Ambition. Loyalty. Courage. Wisdom. Cunning. Justice. Act. Tolerance. Knowledge. Persistence.

* * *

A/N: I forgot to add this last little bit before I posted the story and went to sleep. Polls: 2, Exwolf: 0. Let's try again and see if I can manage to get this poll working correctly.

I've had a few people ask about Harry's animagus form. Not as a part of it's description but as to why it was chosen. Harry's form was chosen based on the mythology, symbolism, and beliefs that are found surrounding those animals. My interpretation of the animagus form has always been that it is the ability to manifest one's inner animal or spirit animal in a physical manner. I've drawn mainly from Central America and Asian/Chinese cultures although there are a few other aspects taken into account. To that end the Animagus form is not dependent or chosen based on the actual physical traits or personality types of the animals in question but of what traits are associated with them.

Below are some, not all, of the traits that are associated with each animal. Part of the reason I've brought in three separate animals is to

Tiger: Enthusiastic, courageous, ambitious, leadership, confidence, charismatic, Power, Energy, Royalty, Protection, Generosity, Illumination, Unpredictability.

Jaguar: confidence, leadership, power, ferocity, and valor, embodiment of aggressiveness, represents the power to face one's fears, or to confront one's enemies.

Panther: Swiftness, Cunning, Strength, Perseverance, Boldness, Beauty, Gaining Confidence, symbol of courage, valor and power.

Now I'm not going to say Harry is going to manifest every one of these traits or that he is going to personify these traits or that he will even display all of these traits. These were the animals that not only blend together well physically but also symbolically as well as in mythology. Even looking back at the cannon story a number of these traits stand out when looking at Harry's character.


	17. Chapter 17: Back to Hogwarts

A/N: Don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. I'd like to thank everyone for the wonderful response to the last chapter; a great deal of the reviews and comments were very I haven't gotten back to you with a PM I apologize but this last week and a half has been very hectic.

On with the story.

* * *

Ron Weasley sat in the Gryffindor tower watching the Hogwarts express pull up to the station in Hogsmead. Rubbing his left forearm he looked back at the letter he had received from Charlie just the day prior.

_ Ron_

_ Just wanted to drop you a line now that Mum and Dad are gone. I wasn't about to risk writing you a letter congratulating you on your new piece of artwork when she might possibly try and read it over my shoulder. If she knew Bill got you a tattoo she'd kill him and then me. Then she'd go straight to Hogwarts to try and remove the thing from your arm. Good thing the ink is charmed with a notice-me-not spell before it's applied. It's why you couldn't see it on Bill's arm before he channeled some magic into the crest while you were touching it. Likewise no one will be able to see it until you do the same for them. _

_ How's the new wand treating you little brother? I think I might have gotten a full grade better on some of my practical NEWT scores if I had been using a properly matched wand when I took them. That's actually the biggest part of the reason I'm writing you today. Bill got to play cool older brother with the great advice and now it's my turn to be the hard ass older brother who threatens to have you shoveling dragon dung if your head doesn't vacate your rectal cavity._

_ Bill wrote me and told me about what your teachers and our other brothers are saying about you. If you want to know what they think about you either ask or figure it out on your own. I will say it wasn't pleasant, not even the mother lion had many good things to say about you. You've had your hand up. Now it's up to you to decide what you do with it. Make things right with your house mates. There's nothing wrong with having a good time and enjoying life but put forth the effort and stop turning in whatever you scrawled onto a parchment five minutes before class. _

_ If you're actually wanting to get into quidditch talk to Oliver. I hear he's the captain for the team now and he's the next to graduate. Unless someone chooses to stop playing his spot's the next to open up. It could happen but I wouldn't count on it. Besides you do play keeper at home whenever the family plays together. Get on the reserve squad and learn everything you can from him, he's just as much a fanatic about the sport as you are. You probably won't play much but if you get as good as Oliver is then you have a better than even chance of turning pro. _

_ Remember Ron that every day is a new day and a new beginning. What you choose to do with them is up to you._

_ "Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titilandus" _

_ Charlie_

_ P.S. I find anything less than an acceptable on your school report and you may not be able to find your broom this summer. _

Ron watched as the carriages were loaded with returning students before muttering to himself as he turned to leave the room. "Every day is a new day huh? I hope they'll think so too."

* * *

Hermione Granger was uniquely frustrated with what she would consider her best friend. If the git would just act like a git or a prat then her frustrations would be perfectly understandable. To her ire Harry Potter was being anything but. "Harry why won't you just accept my parents' and my gratitude!"

"Because it's silly Hermione." Said best friend had to give the girl credit. If her steadfast determination and single minded focus wasn't currently being so damn annoying, he'd actually admire it about her.

"It's not silly Harry. It meant a lot to me that you'd go as far as you did to-"

"Hermione! Enough is enough already. It's not like I saved the world or discovered a cure for dragon pox. I get it. You and your parents are thankful for what I did. But that doesn't mean it's not silly. You shouldn't be thankful because it shouldn't have had to happen." Harry restrained himself from slamming his hand against his forehead. When Hermione Granger made up her mind you might as well have been talking to a brick wall.

"Harry you asked your parents to let us break the law!" Even asking his parents was absolutely crazy in her mind but to go ahead and have gone as far as he had... she couldn't even fathom what he had been thinking.

"The letter of the law maybe but not the spirit or the intention of it. Isn't that what really matters?"

"Breaking the law is breaking the law Harry. Spirit or letter it makes no difference." This time Harry didn't even bother trying to restrain his hand as he instinctively grabbed at his hair. If she was going to pull the intelligent brick wall act he was going to introduce her to a philosophical stick of dynamite.

"That's where we disagree Hermione. The only reason the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery exists is to keep the so called "muggle born" witch and wizards from practicing magic at home. It has nothing to do with keeping magic hidden from the mundane world." Harry mentally groaned as Hermione puffed up her cheeks in indignation.

"Of course it does Harry. You can't have any witches or wizards practicing magic in front of ordinary people. The whole world would find out about us."

"Really Hermione? Did you know there are no less than three loop holes in the law that stops you from practicing magic at home but not one of them is accessible to an ordinary family?"

"Oh really Harry? Come on then let's hear them then." She knew without fail that Harry was mistaken about this. He had to be. She could accept the wizarding world being prejudiced and biased against people with her heritage but it certainly couldn't be written into the laws. Could it?

"First and foremost magic tutors Hermione. Any witch or wizard can apply for a tutoring and teaching license through the ministry and for a fee can be licensed to provide magical instruction for any number of children. Most families that can't afford, or don't want to pay for, a formal magical education home school their kids. I know because Remus has one and I still wasn't allowed to use a wand before coming here."

"But Harry that's still a part of an education. Even if it is an informal one it's still an education." See that didn't prove anything at all. It was for less fortunate families or families that wanted more time with their children. It was perfectly reasonable; in fact that implied that her parents could do the same if they could find a magical adult willing to teach her. Granted, that was the last thing she herself wanted. Learning from teachers with a Mastery in their field certainly had to be a better learning environment but it seemed like a possibility that could be helpful.

Harry had seen Hermione's eyes and chin drift upward while her head tilted slightly to the side. It was exactly what she did anytime she uncovered something that sent her thoughts racing off down a tangent road and Harry could already hear the wheels in her brain spinning into overdrive. He needed something to slow down her thoughts and get her back to the here and now. "Fine then how about this. Hermione you said you tried a few spells before you got to Hogwarts and they worked just fine right?

"They took a few tries but they all worked out just fine."

"Did you get any letters from the ministry?"

"Well … no I didn't."

"Why do you think that is? You weren't in school, you're underage, and you were doing magic. You should have gotten a warning right?" The words had left Harry's mouth before he stopped to consider what the effects of them would be. However the widening of her eyes showed perfectly well that not only was her brain still in overdrive mode but it was now racing along in a state of panic as well.

"Well maybe I should have but I didn't know any better Harry! I didn't mean to break the law which I didn't even know about-" Harry spun on his heel and snaked around Hermione's body to bring his right hand over her shoulder to cover her mouth. He was standing close enough that she could feel his breath on her ear in a deep calming rhythmic manner.

"Hermione you have really got to learn to breathe when you get nervous or excited. Have you ever heard of 'The Trace'?"

Grabbing his wrist she pulled his hand down while spinning to face him. "I've heard of it and understand what it does but I haven't seen any description of how it tracks underage magic."

"I had a chance to read about it in my parents' old school journals. It got me curious and I asked Remus and Sirius about it. The Trace alerts the ministry of magic anytime any underage witch or wizard uses magic in a non-magical environment. But they also told me that even the smallest amount of magic in the air is enough to scramble it; even the magic drifting off an adult is enough."

"But that means that..."

"Exactly Hermione. Any magical home is immune to the effects of the trace. No letters or threats about being expelled at all. The ministry depends on parents keeping their kids in line, most parents try and abide by the law but that's not always the case. The sole reason kids from a mundane background are monitored is because of the bias and prejudice in the ministry and wizarding society. They don't trust non-magic parents to control young witches and wizards at home during the holidays. Oh and if you don't believe that here's the last loop hole. Old and established families get a free pass on anything they classify as family magic once the kid has completed their first year of Hogwarts."

"Then why was your mum so adamant on you not doing magic at home if there are all these reasons why you could?"

"I don't know Hermione. I think it's just because she got a bunch of warnings from the ministry and now that her and my dad work for them I guess she thinks they have to set an example or something."

"Maybe she just wants you to succeed on your own merits. You know instead of having benefits that most don't have."

* * *

Ron stood on a staircase in the entrance hall of Hogwarts watching Harry and Hermione bicker animatedly. Neville stood to the side chuckling to himself as he shook his head gently. He couldn't quite tell what the two of them were arguing about. However, the frustration on Harry's face and disappointment on Hermione's own was obvious. Ron flashed the briefest of glances at his forearm while he recalled the words of his eldest two brothers. _Seek and uphold justice for it is what is right; make things right with your house mates._ Ron could have sought justice by trying to return the embarrassment and fear he'd experienced back to those who had created it. But that wasn't what his brothers meant or what they would have wanted. If anything he owed the two bickering first years his thanks. They had given Neville the chance to open his eyes which lead him to where he was; it was a place he liked. He didn't know what had changed during his day with Bill but he never wanted to lose the feeling he had since that day. Swallowing his pride had never been his strong suit, nine times out of ten if his mother forced an apology out of him he only gave it to get her off his back. This time it had to be different, everything after this had to be different. _Every day is a new day and a new beginning. What you choose to do with them is up to you._

Ron descended the stairs without hesitation or reservation. Crossing the foyer of the castle he stopped just ahead of the trio. "Hey guys can I talk to you for a second?" Harry locked eyes with Neville after having briefly met Hermione''s gaze. If anyone was making this call it was Neville. Of the three of them Neville was without question the only one even remotely close to Ron.

Neville took the hint from the two and stepped forward to stand in front of the red head. "Sure Ron we've got a few minutes. What did you need?"

Ron noticed the byplay between the three and was thankful they had turned to Neville. Of the three he was the only one he hadn't insulted or pissed off with his poor judgment. "Uhm what I need to say is to Hermione and Harry."

Hermione turned and tilted her head up to lock eyes with the adolescent she had tried to help in charms. She held his gaze in a measuring manner trying to discern his intentions. "Go ahead Ron we're both listening."

"Hermione I'm sorry for saying you were a bloody know it all who didn't have any friends. I was wrong; you might be a know it all but you most certainly do have friends. I only said what I did because I was embarrassed that you were doing so much better than me in charms." As Hermione cocked a questioning eyebrow Ron corrected himself. "OK. In all our classes. I just thought that everything would be easier than it is. I didn't know you were behind me and I didn't mean to hurt you Hermione."

"Thank you Ron. I waited ages for you to say anything to me about what happened. Apology accepted."

"Harry -"

"Ron it's good. You don't need to apologize to me."

"Maybe I don't. You did go after Hermione on your own. But I do need to tell you thank you. You set everything up Harry. Maybe not the actual spells and stuff but you were the chess master. You made me feel what Hermione, and maybe yourself, felt on Halloween. I didn't like it then and even looking back I don't like now. But after talking to Neville and my brother I think I get it. You didn't do it just for a laugh or to be mean. Maybe that's why the twins helped but you did it for reason didn't you Harry."

"Yeah Ron I had a reason."

"I'll do my best not to give you any more reasons. Your lessons are bloody scary Harry."

"Glad to hear it mate."

"Can we put this stuff behind us? I'd like to be able to hangout and maybe do our homework with you guys."

Hermione had been expecting this ever since she'd realized that she was just as good at magical school work as she was mundane school work. "Just so that we're clear we'll help you with the homework so long as you're doing it and helping us with ours."

"I know I'm not exactly pulling an outstanding in any of our classes but I was thinking that maybe I could dig in a little deeper in astronomy."

If the three replies of "Astronomy?" was any indication each of the three were more than a bit shocked.

"Yeah over the break my brother took me to get a new wand and Mr. Ollivander said that I might have some talent in divination if I opened my mind up to the possibilities."

The girl of the group was the one to connect the dots. "And a lot of divination hinges on astronomy and where the planets are in the sky."

"That's what Percy and twins tell me."

Harry stepped forward placing his hand on Neville's shoulder. "Well Neville is the best in Herbology in all of first year. Between Hermione and him working together a lot of the potions material gets covered well enough that not even Snape can complain. I'd also wager Hermione is the only one who doesn't sleep in history of magic and everyone knows she's McGonagall's favorite." Neville blushed with the praise while Hermione grinned gleefully at Harry's recognition. Neville turned to his best friend before returning the favor.

"And Harry is probably the best Gryffindor in our year with charms, defense against the dark arts, and the practical aspect of most spells."

"There's just one other thing." Ron turned and walked back to the stairs before spinning on his heel and looking at the three of them. "You guys are all wet." Just then three large water balloons that were filled to the brim impacted the heads of Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, and Hermione Granger. In the background the three of them could hear Peeves howling with laughter.

* * *

The three soaked lions made it up the stairs to the common room with just enough delay to get a warming charm from their seventh year prefect. Silent enduring Neville was taking the bit of water in stride while Hermione was fuming that the boy had just apologized to them soaked them as he was leaving.

"Oh relax Hermione, it was just an apology prank." Harry was clearly the only one seeing the humor in this.

"An apology prank! Is that what you call dumping a load of water on us in the middle of winter Harry?"

"Certainly Hermione. Compared to being covered in spiders this is nothing, more of a love tap really. Certainly not worth losing any sleep over."

"You're not the one whose hair is going to look like it's trying to devour her head for the rest of the day. Honestly... an apology prank."

"Hermione he said he was sorry and this was just his way of getting back at us for our prank. Just a way of saying he's not someone we can pick on without him doing something about it. Honestly I would've lost respect for him had he done nothing at all."

"Really? You respect Ron more for dropping a water balloon on your head in the middle of winter?"

"You know when you say it like that it sounds crazy Hermione."

"It is crazy Harry. That's why it sounds crazy."

"But it's the way my uncles and my dad always treated each other."

"Uhm mate, not to burst your bubble but the marauders may not be the best model for normal. From what I've heard they might even be the best model for crazy."

"Oh come on Nev they're not that bad."

Hermione looked directly into a set of emerald orbs for three seconds in a stunned disbelief. Without a word she turned to the sane one of her friends. "Neville I'm going to go look for a girl who can teach me a drying charm. I'd ask you to talk some sense into Harry but I think that would be like asking Shadow to change his spots and stripes."

Harry could hear Hermione muttering some nonsense about boys and their insanity and them never making sense as she crossed the common room. Just as she was entering the girls dorm Harry felt an arm being draped on each of his shoulders. "George I can't believe the son of Prongs was caught in a prank by Ronniekins"

"I must say Fred I expected more of such an heir to the legacy of the marauders."

"Come off it guys. You should both know it's bad form to dodge an apology prank. It'd be like looking at his hand and smacking it away."

"Too true heir of Prongs. What say you to having you and your friends meet us in the common room after dinner before curfew? We found something very interesting we think you should see."

* * *

That night six Gryffindors were lead to a room that contained an excessively large mirror. "We're not quite sure what it does to be honest. George and myself see different things when we look into it. I see us as wildly successful businessmen owning the best joke shop in England. Everyone knows our name and we're bloody wealthy."

"And I see us surrounded by masses of people who we've made smile and laugh over the years. Some of them are customers we haven't had yet but a lot of them are family and friends that we've touched over the years. I can't really explain it but when I look into the mirror I can see how we've made their lives better, brighter, or happier."

"Yes, yes, George. Now enough with the mushy stuff. Let them all take a look so we can try and see what the mirror does. Who's going first?"

Ron stepped forward hoping to see what his future might bring. At least the twins certainly implied that the mirror showed the future. Looking into the mirror he watched as his reflection transformed. His stature grew, his shoulders broadened, his hair hung to his shoulders. Muscles grew and became taut before his very eyes. His robes shifted from the hand me downs he was wearing to something closer to what Harry and Neville were dressed in. There on his chest hung two gleaming badges; the same ones that Bill and Charlie had worn in their last years at Hogwarts.

Three weeks ago that's all Ron Weasley would have seen. Now standing slightly behind him was Hermione, Neville, and Harry with Harry standing in the center arms draped over each of the others' shoulders. While seeing them there near him brought him a degree comfort it was nothing compared to what Ron felt. A quite sort of confidence and pride; the sort that comes from having faced adversity and overcome. There was a bit of grime and grit under his finger nails born of hard work. He wasn't sure how the mirror was conveying all this; truthfully he didn't care. What he did know was it wouldn't be enough to simply have these things. He wanted them to be his conquest and reward.

Neville stepped up next to Ron to see what the mirror would reveal to him. Not seeing a bit of Ron's transformation Neville was treated to something he'd longed for since before he could remember; his parents hands on his shoulders. There wasn't anything or anyone else there. No pride, no feeling of safety, no joy, nothing emotional whatsoever. Just their presence, but their presence was more comforting than anything Neville had ever known.

Harry seeing the unshed tears in Neville's eyes stepped forward placing his hand on his friend's shoulders. "Nev you OK?"

"I'll tell you after you look in the mirror." Harry nodded while turning his eyes to the mirror's surface. For Harry Potter the mirror itself was curiously confused. Almost all of the people who came to access its magic had something they either deeply coveted or something they deeply regretted. Sometimes it was a combination of the two even if the user didn't know that's what it was. There was nothing materialistic that the young man in front of the mirror deeply desired; his family had always been well to do and all his needs and most of his desires had been provided for. There were no long deep seated regrets that the mirror could twist into an image of impossibility. No deep seated ambition that Harry secretly longed for. Thus the mirror was bound by its own magic to show the emerald eyed one his heart's deepest desire. There standing next to Harry was his family. Safe and proud of him. His mother was holding a baby boy, his father and uncles all standing around joking and smiling. His arms draped around Rose acting as a shield against all who would do her harm. Shadow was prowling in the background with the animal forms of his family. Neville and Hermione flanked his sides wearing smiles of true happiness. The scene shifted several times; shifting through time and aging those within the mirror's frame. Adults grayed, children aged through their teen years and into adult hood, new children and faceless figures joined the people within the frame. The emotion and feelings of the mirror never changed once; his family safe, happy, and proud.

"I see my family and friends safe, happy, and proud." There was after all no need to mention them aging or the addition of people he couldn't recognize.

"I see myself earning the Head Boy and Quidditch captain positions and being presented the Quidditch and House cups."

"I see my parents standing behind me. What about you Hermione?"

Hermione, who had taken Ron's place after he had stepped to the side looked around the edge of the mirror, said "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Read the inscription backwards. The mirror shows what we want, what we desire with all our hearts."

"So what do you see Hermione?"

Hermione looked back to the mirror's surface."I see myself sitting in a large library surrounded by books. My parents and friends are there with me and I can see the Head Girl badge. Everyone's wearing a smile." Harry watched Hermione turn away from thee mirror. He was the only one amongst the group to notice that her eyes wouldn't meet anyone else's. Hermione certainly had no desire to tell the five boys that her hair had finally calmed down from an untamable bushy mess to falling in wavy locks or that she could see the paper and articles she had published in the background. Least of all Hermione wasn't going to mention that the Head Girl badge was being worn by her daughter who was in her last year of Hogwarts or that there was a young boy sitting in her lap. Perhaps the most embarrassing thing was that while she was certain the children in the mirror were her's there were no clues to suggest who the father was. Both set of eyes and parts of their images' were blurry and indistinguishable. Even their father, who was standing by her parents, was nothing but mist and haze.

* * *

The following Saturday Harry found himself alone with the head Ravenclaw in the small professor's classroom. There was a different feel to the air in the room today. Normally the room responded to the professor's own joy and energy, today the room seemed as if it was analyzing everything about him.

"Mr. Potter I received a letter from your mother earlier this week. She tells me you are considering a career in Magical Law Enforcement and believes that my teachings will make you not only more qualified, but safer as well. Is she correct in your choice of career?" The charms master spoke not in anyway Harry had ever heard him use before. What he had expected was his charms teacher. What Harry found himself sitting in front of was a warrior trained in the magical arts in the same manner as goblins were trained to wield martial weapons.

"Yes sir, she is. I was thinking I'd follow my dad into the DMLE as an Auror."

"Did you also know that your father is also qualified as a Hit Wizard. "

"A Hit Wizard sir?"

"Yes a Hit Wizard. Do you know the differences between an Auror and a Hit Wizard?"

"No sir, I don't."

"An Auror is primarily and investigation position that is paid a monthly salary. They patrol magical communities, hunt down clues and facts, serve as bodyguards, respond to fire calls, handle interviews, serve warrants, and make arrests. Hit wizards, on the other hand, are dispatched to deal with dangerous criminals, high risk arrests, and are paid not only a salary but also per bounty or criminal they bring in. Hit Wizards are in fact the heaviest arm of the ministry. Not all Aurors are Hit Wizards, Mr. Potter, but almost all Hit Wizards are in fact Aurors. Your father and Mr. Black are, in fact, both aurors who are qualified and certified as Hit Wizards and they are certainly two of the best the ministry has to offer."

"I thought they just made the world safer for everyone."

"They do just that and very well I might add. The world is a much safer place for the work they do every day. Can you tell me how serious you are about following their footsteps?"

"I've always thought I'd follow in their footsteps, Sir."

"Yes, your mother commented on your stubbornness and I must say I have observed the same in you during our classes. She said it'd take a force of nature to change your mind once it was made up. You get that from her by the way, Mr. Potter. The reason she wrote me was to ask if I would begin teaching you, not in charms, but in dueling. Do you have any reason why I should devote the extra time above and beyond what I do in class to take you as my apprentice?"

"No, sir, I don't. All I have is what I've shown in class so far."

"I have never taken a dueling apprentice young man. I have been teaching and dueling since before your parents came here to Hogwarts and I have not once, in all that time, taken a personal student in the art of combat. Do you know why that is?

"No, sir, I don't."

"Because the few students who have ever impressed me either lacked the desire to learn the combative arts or they lacked the fundamental skills and talents to learn from me correctly. I do not duel in the same manner as most wizards do. I am no Dumbledore who will unleash barrage after barrage of powerful and complicated spells meant to awe and intimidate. My hallmark has always been my speed, precision, and technical abilities. While I am capable of the high level spells that Albus prefers, I find them wasteful and draining. It is a testament to his power and endurance that he does not. Any apprentice of mine would have to work harder and longer to refine their basic skills before I was willing to instruct them on anything. Are you such a student, Mr. Potter?"

"Sir I'll work as hard as I can for as long as I can."

"Yes I trust you will. Would you like to know why I'm even considering giving you the opportunity to become my apprentice?"

"Why is that, Professor Flitwick?"

"It was your quidditch game you played last term that was the deciding factor. I had been watching you in class as I do all my students. The manner in which you attacked your class work was impressive; a relentless desire to perfect what you were being asked to do. But it was your reflexes, reaction time, and quickness that set you apart from many others who otherwise could have studied under me. Watch and observe how I cast."

The charms master took two steps before transfiguring a chair that was forty meters away into a life size mannequin. Filius spun, facing the life sized doll before unleashing a blurring flourish of his wand. Out of the charms master's wand raced nearly fifty streaks of light so close together that it seemed as if the multitude of lights were a single long blur diffracting to different terminals.

Upon the light display's impact, the mannequin was driven another five meters into the wall behind it with a sickening crack. To the young apprentice it appeared as if the faux human was transfigured into the shape of Swiss cheese. A hole the size of a nut had been drilled through each hand, elbow, shoulder, foot, kneecap, and thigh where they connected to the hip. Seven identical holes had been drilled through the doll's head to form a smiley face; four smiley faces had been crafted in each quadrant of the things chest. "This is what I can teach you if you prove yourself worthy of my teachings. However, each lesson I impart to you will have to be earned. You will spend two hours with me every week; one hour on a defensive lesson and one hour on the attack. Your first two lessons are as follows. Repeat after me: Aim small, miss small."

"Aim small, miss small."

"The best way to defend against any spell is to not be where it's aimed."

"The best way to defend against any spell is to not be where it's aimed."

"I will teach you nothing else until you have proved to understand and taken these truths to heart. To practice the first you will stand on one side of the room and attempt to create that same pattern on a mannequin using a stinging hex. For the second we will play a game similar to what muggles call dodge-ball."

By the time Harry made it back to his room, he had managed to evade his charms professor's spells for fifty five seconds without a stinging hex finding him again. Master Flitwik, as he was now required to refer to his charms teacher in private, was impressed that he had managed to dodge over ten hexes in a row. Harry was disappointed that of the seven hundred and twenty stinging hexes his torturer had sent he hadn't been able to dodge more than twenty percent.

* * *

A/N I'd like to thank Mr. Skellington and Mrs. Exwolf for the proofreading and suggestions on this chapter. I'd also like to apologize for not having this ready and out five days ago. Working an extra twenty hours is great for the paycheck but rather rough on writing time. May or may not be going on vacation next week so the following chapter may or may not be delayed accordingly.


	18. Chapter 18: Winter and Spring

A/N: Don't own anything here.

I'd like to thank Mr. Skellington for his wonderful work proofreading and tweaking this chapter before it was released. I'll never understand how anyone can be goo enough to proofread, edit, and give suggestions while getting the chapter back to me within twelve hours.

Also I'd like to thank all of you readers who keep coming back to this story. Without seeing the bars of hits, the lines of visitors, or reading the kind words of the reviews I probably would have given this up a month ago. Even if I hadn't given this up it wouldn't be near the quality it is now.

* * *

For the four first year Gryffindors the return to Hogwarts brought a new complexity to their education. The first term had been an easing in period where the simplest concepts were explained in the most basic of terms. Concepts were being expanded and combined while the students were also expected to understand and apply which spells would be the best to use and when. Nearly a month had been spent learning to change a match to a needle and back again. Another two months had been spent working the same concept with different materials. Rocks to glass, leaves to feathers, paper to porcelain. It hadn't been till the last two weeks that the classes had started having to focus on changing the shape or size. On the first day back the head of the lions had waltzed in and demonstrated the first year practical portion of their final exams. Now McGonagall was expecting them to manage all three with a single spell. Leaves had to elongate to full blown quills and were graded on their ability to write and how long they lasted. No longer were rocks becoming glass marbles; now the stern professor was trying to drink from the glass cups she wanted them to create. Blocks of wood were expected to become exquisite pieces of silverware and parchment was to impersonate fine china. Hermione couldn't have been happier.

Charms were another matter entirely. As Harry had noted months ago charms were the socket wrenches and tool kits of magical spells. The basic levitation charm lead to more complex hover charms that could be used in the basic's place. Want to have a spoon stirring dinner while you were using the grill? There was a charm for that commonly used by potion masters for simple stirring requirements. The basic wand-Lighting, Lumos, charm gave way to charms that created floating balls and focused beams of light that could be varied in color and intensity. Introduced were charms that created smells and sounds that functioned like a Wand-Lighting spell for the other senses. Hermione's bluebell flames of heat was actually an off shoot of the Incendio spell that was used for lighting candles and fire places or by pyromaniacs for fun. Tickling charms were added to the repertoire as was the ever handy magical fixing abilities of the Mending Charm – Reparo . The unlocking charms demonstration was repeated for the four lions; this time by the charm master. Most importantly covered was the way all these spells could be used and undone. Most of the counters were a simple Finite and Finite Incantatem, although Nox could also be used for any light effects. Professor Flitwik went on to explain that their charms practical test was not just a test of being able to perform the spells, it was a test of knowing what spell, and it's variations, to use and when. In that respect it was also a test of creativity.

To Harry's relief history of magic remained his favorite nap time despite Hermione's protests. History was perhaps Hermione's easiest subject. Her love of reading combined with her near eidetic memory and meticulous note taking prevented even Binns' mind numbing lectures from affecting her grades. While Snape remained less combative than he was at first during lessons he never took to teaching preferring to sit in his chair and glare at anything that wasn't wearing silver and emerald. Harry couldn't even tell if the course work was getting harder in potions between Snape's lack of communication and snide remarks when combined with his own lack of understanding how the ingredients worked together. Herbology likewise became a thorn in Harry's side, even with Neville's help. The older he got the more plants seemed to detest him. Two or three years ago he had been able to walk in the greenhouse and work with the more docile plants when he visited Neville, now he could barely handle a vine or flower without it trying to draw blood or spit something at him. While Harry was consistently scrapping Exceeds Expectations in Herbology and barely missing the same grade in potions, he never really managed to excel in either field. Neville was quite the opposite, any plant he touched yielded to his will with a simple graze. It was stunning for Professor Sprout who very rarely was able to work with a prodigy at all. Unlike her friends who taught the more main stream subjects, green thumbs with natural talent in Herbology who loved the field enough to pursue it with the passion and focus of an artist were exceptionally rare. Neville Longbottom was such a green thumb.

With the lack of ever having a consistent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher there really wasn't a coherent lesson plan for any year. Most of the time according to the older students the Defense professors were just making things up as they went based on the things they had experienced. For the stuttering fool they were learning from that meant that after the first terms general overview they covered vampires. A lot. Over and Over again. Detecting and identifying the undead. Methods to protect and drive them away. Most disturbing were the more permanent solutions the professor felt necessary to discuss. Fortunately all the beginning defensive spells were referenced in the book assigned to the class and could be found in the standard book of spells. Most of them were primarily harmless hexes or jinxes designed to make running away easier or an attacker less dangerous. Spells like the total body bind, Jelly legs (and fingers), the tripping jinx, the bedazzling hex which left its victims seeing spots, a speech disabling jinx which caused the lips of the target to stick together, and the crazy legs hex, Tarantallegra, which made a person's feet go crazy.

Of the four Gryffindors only Ron was developing any true sense of astronomy. Hermione, in true know it all fashion, had been able to memorize all the charts and movements of the planets, moons, and the positions of the constellations. While astronomy was a predominantly theoretical and knowledge based field the implications and impacts of the planets required a more abstract type of thought pattern that the linear thinking girl struggled with. In contrast that same type of out of the box thinking is what Ron excelled at. Finding patterns and drawing conclusions about what was going to happen next was a key component of any student of chess. Once Ron had the background knowledge and understanding of the material he was able to watch the entire sky the same way he watched a chess board and he began seeing how the planets and constellations affected each other. He wasn't anywhere near understanding the more convoluted theory of astrology and the predictions that followed, but it was a start.

Harry's private lessons with Master Flitwik were far more painful than any other class or quidditch practice he had had to go to. By the same token learning to dodge a constant barrage of silent streams of light made dodging bludgers seem simple. Oddly enough there was actually a science and art to evading and dodging spell fire. The first time Harry spun in a circle away from a spell he received six hexes in his ass as a warning with the piece of advice to keep his eyes on the danger. The first time he locked eye with the charms master he received a pounding headache with the advice to either avoid eye contact or to improve his mental shields. He was instructed on how to lean out of the way of a spell, how to turn briefly out of danger while presenting a smaller silhouette, how and when to duck and roll out of the line of fire while keeping his eyes forward, and most importantly that his greatest defense was his mobility. Offensively Harry had to learn how much of a difference a few degrees makes over the course of a long room. Precision targeting was a matter of practice and learning the fundamentals. Stance, grip, and breath control were among the most important of the basics. Beyond that it was a simple matter of hand eye coordination, something any good seeker had in spades, and practice – something he was rapidly acquiring.

January passed in a flash before leading to a cold and snow filled February which brought the Potter family back to Hogwarts for another quidditch game. This match had always been traditionally the friendliest match of the year. The Badgers against the Lions. Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Without question the two houses that got along the best always had the friendliest game. While no single house ever got along with the snakes the house that came closest was in fact the Ravenclaws. However, nobody in any house ever expected a clean game from a house whose defining trait was their willingness to do anything to come out on top. By contrast the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff game was always dominated by the Lions' display of honor and the Badgers' display of justice and teamwork.

Oliver believed that the Hufflepuff game would be the hardest, closest, game of the year for his team. Harry's aggressive high speed attacks and the twins barrage of bludgers would have the least amount of effect on Hufflepuff's chaser line. A line that had an unrivaled dedication to formation flying and high speed precision passing. Their level of teamwork allowed for them always pass the quaffle at the last moment and to pass often enough that attacking any one chaser was ill advised. While each of the Lions strongest weapons would be disruptive on their own, Oliver wasn't convinced that they would be able to seize the lead fast enough and strong enough to be safe from Cedric winning the game for the puffs. In Wood's mind the game would be determined by Harry and Cedric's ability to locate and capture the snitch.

The game started much the same way Harry's previous game had and Harry continued his diving spiraling attack from there. What was different was the reactions – first and foremost the larger and more experienced Cedric Diggory was able to fly in Harry's wake and call out warnings to his teammates. Secondly, even with Harry's Nimbus 2000 and his exceptional maneuverability he wasn't able to cause the turn overs he had previously. Simply put ramming and distracting a chaser who didn't hold on to the quaffle was next to useless. The best Harry was able to do was force the puffs into passing faster and removing one of the chasers briefly from their formations and patterns. When the Weasley twins were able to combine their attacks with Harry's strafes it left the one badger fending himself from the lions' own chasing line. While this created a strong defensive line for the Lions, the Badger chasers consistently recovered their own defensive zone preventing the unopposed runs against their keeper that had created the landslide scoring in the previous match.

Oliver Wood was without a doubt correct in his belief that the snitch would determine the winner of this match. After twenty five minutes of play the Lions had a forty point lead; in a game that ended with a fifteen goal shift it might as well have been a tie game. What was worse the Hufflepuff team was getting better as they played; they were getting accustomed to the Lions tempo and style. Harry understood quickly that while professional teams could fly for hours, and some games lasted through a day and a night, they couldn't manage that here at Hogwarts. He couldn't manage the speed and harshness of his flying for much more than 105 minutes of play. And what would happen when he wasn't there performing high G flight moves that were distracting the Badgers? They'd go on the attack and the Gryffindor advantage could be lost. Harry did however have an advantage over Cedric. Cedric, while more than capable of keeping up with and flying on an even footing with Harry, wasn't used to the rapid change in directions or pace. Furthermore he was more worried about his teammates and chasers then the snitch. It wasn't much of an advantage and it wouldn't last forever. But given the experience and size the older boy had Harry was willing to take anything he could get. Harry's advantages unfortunately forced Cedric and Harry into an even faster, more intense, spiraling crisscrossing pattern in and out of each line of chasers. Harry would dive or climb, corkscrewing the entire way before rolling into or cutting off a badger that no longer carried the quaffle.

Cedric was right there in his wake, fighting the buffeting winds Harry was producing, calling out warnings to his teammates while edging every inch of speed and maneuverability out of his broom to try and keep up with the more agile seeker on the faster broom. He wasn't trying to pull the more dazzling maneuvers that defined Harry Potter's flight path. His broom didn't have the speed or maneuverability to manage that; he himself didn't have the stomach for those spins or the control to mimic them. It was a testament to the younger boy's skill on a broom that he could appear totally out of control without ever actually losing control. Cedric also knew that his first and most important job in this match wasn't finding and catching the snitch. There would always be other games to play and win, more importantly at the end of the day it really wasn't anything more than a school game played for house pride. Cedric had seen what the Lions did to the Snakes in their first game, while they weren't playing with that same level of brutality the Lions were still playing to win. Every last Slytherin Quidditch player had been forced to see madam Pomfrey that day. If he lost the game and his team walked away without injury Cedric Diggory would be a happy badger.

Forty five minutes into the game Harry, in the middle of what would be his last strafing run against the 1991-1992 Hufflepuff quidditch team, diverted from rolling over the opposing chaser into an immediate dive. Using the few extra precious seconds that his maneuvering gained him pushed his broom into a full speed gravity assisted feint. Only it wasn't a true feint, Harry had actually seen the snitch. But Cedric playing it safe and trying to avoid eating the grass, held back on his speed expecting Harry to pull out of the dive and back into play. Harry did pull out of the dive but he didn't turn back to the field, using gravity to his advantage he pushed his Nimbus 2000 over its top speed. Cedric never had a chance to even pull even with Harry before the younger seeker had the golden snitch in his hands. As Harry was being surrounded by his fellow lions he found it curiously strange that Hermione and his mother were standing there with oddly serene smiles while his father, uncles, and best mate stood behind them with mischievous smirks.

February also brought with it a holiday. A holiday that often seemed divided down the gender line, Valentine's Day. For the older years it was a holiday of romance and gift giving to loved ones and hoping that special someone might just like you back. For the first and second years it was a wide exchange of chocolate, candies, and cards between friends and classmates with the distant hope that maybe in a year or two some romance of their own might bloom.

Winter faded with the coming and passing of March. The weather turned from blistering wintery cold into a rainy mix of between near freezing and still quite chilly. It was past the Easter break in April before any actual good weather was seen. The kind of weather that was actually made Harry want to spend an entire afternoon on his broom. It was the same month that Hagrid curiously took to inviting the four Gryffindors to his hut on every Friday now that their flying lessons had concluded leaving them with a free afternoon. For Harry his parents had been on friendly terms with the gentle giant and he felt obligated to be courteous even if he didn't agree with the man's tastes in pets. All of Ron's brothers had spoken highly of Hagrid, most of all Charlie, and he was there for similar reasons as Harry. For Neville it was actually far simpler; Hagrid had pictures of Frank and Alice from their school days and was willing to share. If for no other reason Neville would have been there for that and Harry would have followed to support him. Hermione who could have been, and honestly would have preferred to be, studying in the library had also opted to join them. She had become very accustomed to the presence of her three friends and followed them without thought.

It was in late April that one of these visits brought a measure of turmoil back into the lives of the four lions. Hagrid's hut was remarkably warm that day; more so when it was contrasted with the seasonably cool weather of northern Scotland. It wasn't just warm inside the wooden hut; there was a raging fire that could have kept the coldest of winters at bay. Hermione would have likened it to a sauna she had been in once with her mum. As soon as they had opened the door the kids had been hit with a blast of steam and the heat and humidity had never relented.

It wasn't even twenty minutes into what had become a reoccurring visit that the four students as one demanded that Hagrid either kill the fire or open the window. "Can't, y'all, sorry," said Hagrid.

Harry noticed him glance at the fire. Harry looked at it, too. "Hagrid - what's that?" But he already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg. An egg that was creaking, cracking, and shaking violently.

"Ah," said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard, "That's — er…"

"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. "It must've cost you a fortune."

"Won it," said Hagrid. "Few weeks ago. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" said Hermione. It was quite clear from the way the egg was looking and acting that such a time was rapidly approaching.

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'," said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library —Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit — it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on I em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here — how ter recognize diff'rent eggs — what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."

He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn't. "Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," she said. But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire watching the egg crack just before a black scale covered head burst through the calcium shell.

It wasn't the first time Harry had called his family on the mirrors he had been given the day he left for Hogwarts. Truth be told he talked to one of the adults in his life at least two or three times a week. Most of the time it was just to keep in touch although he wasn't against asking his mum for help on a homework or the marauders for guidance on a harmless prank. This was, however, the first time he had ever called all three marauders at the same time with a situation as large as what he was currently looking at. Harry withdrew his mirror lined wallet before flipping it open and tapping each of the three communications devices while calling out their assigned names.

"Shadow I just got Rose started on her lessons. What's going on, you almost never call during the middle of the day."

"Shadow, you know me and Padfoot are at work. What's going on that's so important for you to call us when you should be in class?"

"Oh lay off Prongs I don't get to talk to my godson nearly enough these days. Besides the paper work isn't going anywhere and it's not like we have a hot case we're investigating.

"Dad, Padfoot, Moony, I've got a problem that I think I need your help with."

" 'Arry there ain't no reason to get your folks involved in this. Ain't non' of their business I tell ya."

"Hagrid … you know what never mind." Harry spun the wallet that had been facing him so the marauders could see the baby dragon that was now crawling on to Hagrid's oversized table. "You three explain it to him."

There was degree of explicit language that Lily would have taken offense to and Hermione constantly found herself mentally chastising the three adults for. James was without a question not under any delusion to Hagrid's newest pet and was adamant as steel that Norbert was not remaining at the castle. James had been called and accused of many things during his life – not a single person had ever suggested that James was ever accepting or understanding of a threat to his family. The only reason he hadn't freaked in the same manner as Lily over the troll incident was because the danger and threat were already gone. A dragon however, even a baby dragon fresh from its egg, at his child's school was approaching the top of his list of things he wasn't going to take.

Two weeks later may have well been the worst week of Severus Snape's life. A week of planning, communicating, and pooling resources between the marauders and their six young protégés combined in what would be known as the great chaos of 92'. The first day brought a series of balloons that suddenly expanded before they exploded at each meal, showering everyone in their vicinity with disappearing paint -a paint which was a variation of disappearing ink designed to cause twenty four hour stains before vanishing. The second day brought spiked pumpkin juice and milk that had been laced with a babbling potion. All of the students were blurting out anything that came to their mind with such regularity that teachers were forced to silence them during classes to get anything done. On Wednesday the quartz stones that Harry had constructed with his father's help created a series of wards that caused everyone to turn in the opposite way they had intended to go. Only those with uncommonly strong and focused minds were able to walk the halls unaided. The divination teacher ended up in the basement twice every time she left her tower, Quirrell simply refused to leave his classroom or adjoining office, students had to walk to classes hand in hand to with either a teacher leading them or the rare student who was unaffected, and Snape was livid in a way that he hadn't been since James had threatened to debagg* him in their fifth year. Thursday, with the help of Remus and Sirius, the twins unleashed a series of objects that were enchanted or otherwise charmed to transform from things that were perfectly normal into the bizarre – even for wizards. Swamps appeared from nowhere, lagoons filled with willow trees blocked hallways, and magically created snow lead to animated snowman and snowballs inside the foyer leading to the great hall.

After a week of pranks being unleashed the population of Hogwarts was becoming nervous to step outside their dorms. For the first time that week the morning passed in total normalcy. No chaos. No pranks. Not even a peep from the devilish six or their predecessors. Lunch passed and nothing had happened. A handful of the students were slowly starting to relax their guard; most were simply getting more nervous. Like the calm before the storm there was a palpable tension in the air. Then at dinner with all the teachers in attendance and every student situated in the great hall the finale kicked off. All at once every student shrieked as they were yanked upwards by their sockets. The doors leading to the Great Hall of Hogwarts erupted into pillars of blue flames that didn't burn before changing into dragons, phoenixes, and bats that started swooping down at professors table – nobody seemed to notice that the bats had an uncanny attraction for the potion master of the school. As the students were released and started falling towards the floor they landed not on the floor but in alternating patches of snow and water. As the population of Hogwarts was making its way back to their feet Harry looked up into the Headmaster's eyes and felt a cool piercing presence in his mind. Dumbledore simply smiled and nodded at the young man before drawing his wand and taking control of the flames. They couldn't hurt anyone but he didn't want anyone overly scared either. Besides if this was meant to be a distraction than he would make sure he had everyone's attention.

Nobody ever made it to the gates of Hogwarts - so the redirecting wards James had Harry set up were never tested. Nobody ever left the Great Hall until nearly curfew and there was no time for anyone to do anything but go back to their dorms. Nobody not in the know ever suspected that James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin helped smuggle an illegally bred dragon out of Scotland.

The next morning six Gryffindors stood in front of their head of house who was wearing an expression she hadn't worn in just over a decade. "What exactly were you six thinking this past week?"

Not wanting Professor McGonagall to get into one of her tirades, Harry thought it'd be best to cut her off at the pass with the truth. "Ma'am we discovered that Hagrid had hatched a dragon in his hut and we were providing cover for my dad and uncles to smuggle it out of the country." After all when the truth was so outlandish that not even the best fiction writer in the world could sell it as an autobiography what better story could be told?

* * *

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizarding, was in in a predicament. Months ago in the heart of summer he himself had accompanied young Mr. Longbottom on his birthday when he went to acquire his school supplies. It was a bit of a tradition in the wizarding world; acquiring the necessary items for a fledgling witch or wizard on their birthday before attending school. There were things that were going to be needed at Hogwarts regardless of what century the student was attending in or who the teachers were. Most importantly was of course a wand. Despite the fact that Neville had chosen to take up his father's wand, irregardless of it being a less than perfect match, Lady Longbottom had insisted that tradition be respected. Just as necessary to be picked up were sets of school robes and uniforms, a cauldron, potion ingredients, a trunk, and protective clothing in the line of dragon hide gloves and boots. Because of the lateness of his birthday Neville had been able to pick up his school books on that particular trip.

The reason for the troubles plaguing the headmaster all stemmed from that day and the events that had followed. He had made such a huge spectacle of acquiring the philosopher's stone for Nicholas from the goblins of Gringotts. There had been many twinkling eyes and winks behind Augusta's back that he was certain Neville had gotten the message or at least enough information to be curious. But Neville wasn't curious at all.

Like all good pure-blood kids from old families Neville had a subscription to the daily prophet that was at least skimmed in the morning. Information and knowledge lead to power and wealth. That was true anywhere in the world; it was simply more true in a society where information and words held magical power. Being aware of the new and current events was a necessary evil. More so for a family with the political connections and leanings like the Longbottom family. There was simply no possibility of Neville not being aware of the break in at Gringotts. But Neville just didn't seem to care - he wasn't curious at all that the vault he had watched being emptied of a single small bag was broken into the next day.

Even when Mr. Longbottom had accompanied Mr. Potter to his "midnight duel" against the youngest Malfoy child their discovery of the Cerberus had evoked more curiosity out of Ms. Granger and Mr. Potter. Dumbledore could see the makings of excellence in the younger muggle born girl. The attention to details that had allowed her to pick up the trap door under the beast's feet combined with her natural inquisitive nature and academic drive were classic components that all witches of her caliber had shared, the most recent of which was Lily Evans. But Neville's curiosity hadn't been peaked in the slightest, as if finding a three headed dog that was over thirty feet tall was an everyday occurrence.

Dumbledore had worked all of this out in painstaking detail in an afternoon in early July. He'd provide all the necessary clues and the young Gryffindor would discover all these tidbits of information before working out the great mystery of his first year. Even the defenses surrounding the fake stone had been crafted to instill confidence in the young lions that would likely accompany Mr. Longbottom to where the mirror was being held. But Neville Longbottom wasn't curious about the Philosopher's Stone, Nicholas Flamel, or anything involving the corridor on the third floor. Sitting in his office the Headmaster of Hogwarts came to the startling conclusion that he'd have to adjust his plans to something more direct.

* * *

A/N: I found myself struggling while I was brainstorming for this chapter. In JKR's cannon story she jumped from Christmas to going after the stone in three chapters. For perspective that's 45, out of 309, pages of writing in the paperback version of the story- a rough estimate of ten thousand words. And that included finding out about the stone, smuggling out a dragon, and a detention in the forbidden forest.

In a review that was left a long time ago in an earlier chapter it was mentioned that if I ever did a a rewrite it would be a good idea to bring in more scenes with Harry as a kid. Time spent with Rose, Neville, and more time in general with his family. If you've read my bio than you might recall I asked a similar thing of JKR. I've always intended to do a rewrite to bring more cohesiveness and detail to the story but I'd rather not delete or drastically alter the chapters that are already out there. Instead my intention is that after each book or year is complete I will go back and publish that year as a stand alone with corrections and with any new ideas I have come up with that I'd like to add. To that end I swore I'd never ask for reviews but I find myself disappointed with this chapter; there simply wasn't enough material for me to work with in the second term. What I would ask is that if you have read something, thought of something, or in general would like to see something that you feel is appropriate than to pass it on in either a private message or a review.

To give an idea as to where the story is now the next chapter/update has Lily giving birth to another child, the confrontation over the stone, and ends book one with Harry and company heading home.

I have taken some liberties with the magic they were supposedly learning and using at Hogwarts. Particularly in transfigurartion where they go from working with matches to needles to changing an animal into a snuff box. It seems that it would make more sense to master changing shape, size, and material before moving on to something complex like working with anything having whiskers.


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